your hair is in disarray
nails are dirty
and just like your feelings
all those little things
that hang on your body
are in chaos,
i look at you and you stare at me
and i look back and you laugh
triumphant perhaps in what you are finally
from an ordered past to a
present pandemonium you come to me and
shout at me that you are free,
i wonder, is freedom actually chaos?
i am free too,
i have worked my freedom and earned it
i comb my hair
i trim my fingernails
i wash my body
i filter my thoughts
i put things in their
proper order
i exercise propriety
i choose my words,
i plan my day
i only buy what i need for the day
i write my diary
i decide what book to read
i weigh things
i throw away what destroys me
i don't put myself to danger
i protect myself
i defend what is right
i speak the truth
and i will tell you too,
' i am free! '
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem