I imagine the smell of burning wood
It fills my nostrils and imbues me with exultation
For it is the smell of taboo liberties, of abandon
Who am I and where I have been does not matter anymore
As, no one remembers…
I have become a voiceless wanderer, rapt in my own world
And, like an intrepid nomad, I travel,
Refusing to acknowledge my destination
The wood crackles and burns, turning black –
Black like the darkness that I’ve become addicted to
You say I am mad, and maybe I am
But I find solace in this darkness; it is my sanctuary,
Where no one can see me; touch me; hurt me
Leave me to my silence, dear stranger!
Let me travel to the deep crevices of my mind
And drown myself in my dreams –
Dreams full of lust; full of passion
Let me allow myself to imagine the impossible
For I am weary of this life; this cruel reality!
You tell me I have become a prisoner of my mind
But you are the prisoner of this real world; this dystopia
My mind is the only place where I am truly free –
Free from your burdens; conventions; impositions
Who are you to make these rules for me?
When I’d rather be gleefully imprisoned
To the freedoms of my utopian imaginations!
© SesapZai December 7, 2012