Sunday, September 23, 2007


Freedom is a dirty word filled with sharp edges and dark spaces;

Free is a four letter word that leaves a sour taste in my mouth.
I throw these words around as if they were a child's play thing,
Not taking responsibility for what they mean as they role so easily off my tongue.
I distort their image and I make them into something unappealing because my freedom is something it was never intended to be--
Because my freedom depends on me and what I can do.

My freedom, is dependent on the broken heart of a child--
My freedom, is dependent on the shattered dreams of a teenager--
My freedom, is dependent on lost time and bad choices.

So it's no wonder the freedom I give is uninviting and ugly because this freedom isn't free at all.
And, at the end of the day when I have lived in my so-called "freedom" I realize I want a freedom that is technicolor and sweet--
but how could I possibly find that?

July 4, 2007