16 and begging

i want to be free.

of pain. drama.

of grief. i wanna wake up.

and able to connect with the clouds, with the sky like Winter 15.

i want to be free! the sunsets will melt with my bones when i’m free and i’ll kiss the shores hello. sing them pretty songs. love endlessly. sugar will touch me in realistic glimmers, the moon will sigh in relief that healing is real. these penetrating poems will cease to exist. cause when i’m free, the world will me my oyester; like the TV once told me and life will smell of vanilla. vibrance will rest in a hollow chest. i will dance! i will SCREAM cause oxygen was confined in a box of complicity.

i’ll sing. cause when i’m free, the earth will be my tenacity, and the tides my sanctuary.

-amiya’s plea