Freedom

Sara Haque

I have been leaving the key
To my flat 
On the front door.
Once. Twice.
And I stumble on the thought that I might do it again.
Completely. Intentionally.
I have been looking at water 
tipper tapping on my stationary car's window and see I've 
caught a dark pool of eyes.
I have been staring too long.
Reaching out to a word from behind imaginary bars,
Freedom.
Freedom.
To dream a dream.
To love a being, like me, 
unlike me. 
To live, as a mind. A body unbounded by shackles of physical mould . 
Freedom.
From people I respect out of fear or fear out of respect.
For unbridled thoughts and eclectic concoctions of desires.
I have been screaming 
into 
the back of my head. 
Where I cannot 
control its volume.
And a whisper sounds
the same.
I have been squishing the last 
lumps of soap until my fingers threaten to bleed with half dried froth. 
And terrified molecules.
I do not find my salvation. 
My freedom.

 

 


4 comments

  • Hey girl!
    I think I know you… ?
    Amazing work down there.
    The figures of speech on point!
    To love a being like me, unlike me…
    To dream a dream! ?
    Do find some time and stop by at “the Keteki at Midnight”.
    Catch up soon. :)

    Sharad Kamal Bezboruah
  • This will always remain my favourite

    Kasturee
  • Beautiful <3 :’)

    Maruf Hassan
  • Beautiful ?

    Maruf

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