A lamb that doesn’t like silence

by nourayasmine   Dec 25, 2021

You could duct-tape
the freedom
within my throat, and smother
it into a cry. You could
chop off my arms, lest I hold a sign,
and break my legs when I think
of stepping up.

You could blur my vision
with lachrymators or lies. Gash
my heart with a blade.
Expunge my words away with
a bullet.

But your ropes lay helpless, your
bullets are aimless, your knives
fracture to bits against my dreams.

And I dream of
beauty you will never get to feel.
I dream of borderless meadows and
open seas and air that smells
like the sun of June, and
flowers pregnant with life.
I dream of shouting all the words,
writing every poem you’d burn
to ashes,
killing you with ink and song.

I dream

being free.


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