Exhaustion ,
Utter displacement,
A homelessness of both the inner and exterior,
A yearning for the ending to be near,
The fight in existing,
My body a rebellion,
I am absent,
Yet I am so very here,
Nowhere to go,
But so very Here,
I lace myself up,
In embellishments,
Decorate myself in adornments,
To beautify what was so dead,
What was so dead but which dared to live,
Which desired to taste the breath of air,
Outside of my four walls,
I would lay every night,
Visualising myself as a Bird,
Wondering what it would feel like to be free,
What the world looked like out there,
What it would feel like, smell like,
Now,
Here I am,
In freedom,
Free,
But with knots wrapped up throughout my throat,
Across every disc of spine,
Knots of remembrance,
ideals of death.