To Be Unchained

 To be Unchained

Ask me what I would do if my synaptic chains no longer bound me and I would tell you that there are a thousand things I’d reach for to light the dark. I’d put on my glimmering sun pendant in any state, not a worry for the next time I’d wear it or the time after that. I’d read whatever book whenever I wanted to, fall asleep to dreams of stories set in fantasy realms and distant domains. Open the door. Take running steps. Pick wildflowers into ragtag bouquets. Climb the peach tree for the ripest fruit, braving the branches for a taste tart as lighthearted sass. Paint with every shade I have, render turquoise citadels and amaranth starfields over coral moors. Run a hand through my tangled hair. Part the umber waves with one movement. Roam sunflower meadows without shoes. Wake at dawn for breakfast at first light. Let go of waylaying fear in a steadying sigh. Go about my day like nothing is wrong. Believe for the first time since I was only nine that nothing is wrong. Live a year without crying. Play music just a bit too loudly, if only to set myself free. Stand without wanting to run. Breathe like I don’t fear air will escape me. Stare directly into your eyes unwavering. Hold my own gaze in the mirror. Hear the silence and hold steady, no scream behind closed lips. Cross the room in slow steps. Turn the doorknob of my own accord. Lift the shattered pieces from the floor. Stop wishing the night would end. Grab a pen without second-guessing, ink in any color at all. Speak above the din. Depart without waiting on myself to meet unreachable standards. Set aside years of wanting to just have, hundreds of miles and hours of struggling be damned. Wade farther into the waves. Catch a sunbeam on the open ocean, rising up from the silver surges to look skyward. Savor one last breath, slow and sustaining. Accept my fate in late night hours of wishing for morning. Say what needs to be said. Stop needing. Finally be free.