Degrees of Freedom

Photo by Daniele D’Andreti on Unsplash

you said I could go,
why is there this guilt

trip

on my freedom,
and how I wanted to believe

while bound
by my own blackbird

feathers

on your ankle
when you spoke I felt heavy

branded by worn tread
of your voice

did you think it was better
away

when you were free, so free,
nothing to deter you

cries

of those left behind
then, now, here,

but I’m trying
to remember how silence smells

the only way
back to dig fingers into

sand

my soul, unplanned
and I’m full of broken

glued

back together,
baby, what do you say?

the moon sure is lovely,
and no one else has ever

held me this full
the next phase past

forever