Freedom covered me in bubble wrap
To protect me from life
Because that stuff would surely kill me.
It took a while before it was safe to feel again.
To look at my face in the mirror and count the bruises.
It took a while before I believed
That smiles were not a disguise
To hide evil.
Freedom didn’t come with a map
To help me find my way back home,
Or to navigate a safe path
Through the minefields of PTSD.
It didn’t come with instructions
On putting an ex-hostage back together.
The thing that got delivered only said;
Complete re-assembly required.
Freedom poured me out like liquid,
Without borders or form.
So, tell me! What is the true shape of water?
I was left to make my own vessel,
Left to find fulfillment or failure.
Either way I was a ghost,
Invisible to people
Who were looking for someone else.
Freedom took so long to arrive
That all that was left of me
Were bits of verse and prose
Words rattling
In a bag of skin and bones.
I’d been reduced like a fraction
To the common denominator
Of Love.
Freedom gave others the liberty
To use blades of contempt
Trying to cut off the pieces of me
That no longer fit the old mold.
Leaving me in need of a physician.
God, if healing means
Conformity
I’d rather bleed!
Freedom left me an exile;
My tribe had moved on without me,
Heading in the wrong direction.
It’s ok though,
Now I wander with others like myself;
Poets, writers, artists and lovers.
A motley crew for sure,
But freedom is for the free.
j.w, McKinleyville 12/10/25