“freedom” a poem by Eric King


We talk about freedom
I dont want freedom to buy whatever I want
freedom to browse a market and pick out the best top
or the latest piece of technology to hide my face
The joys of being free and being able to chose which job
is best to spend the majority of my waking life at
so that I can earn enough money to appreciate
all this capitalist technological freedom
Freedom to pick which fast food restaurant I eat at
How much money I want to pay these pigs
to shovel shit into my face forcing a painful early grave
which beer I want to drink to get drunk the fastest
which car will get me into that tree with the most precision
so I could forget all the fucking freedom I have
Freedom is warm blood
dripping off a knife stuck in a rapists throat
Its warming your hands over a blazing fire in your local precinct
The ability to decide my own limits and live according to them
to grow my own food or barter for what I need
its waking up next to my partner in our home
not trapped by society into working long hours
to buy more fucking freedom
Its waking up when I need to or want to
and making art or challenging myself how I feel
Freedom is making my own choices without fear of punishment
or judgment from anyone including my peers, or a jury of such
Its being released from addictive chains that have been wrapped
around my throat to keep me subdued or limited
brainwashed and bored to death, feeling like a failure because
I didn’t reach my shopping freedom potential!
Its being without anyone’s expectations but my own
Its choosing who I spend my time with and what we spend it doing
It’s kissing for longer than 2 god damn seconds
putting our hands wherever they should be and are wanted
for however long they are wanted to be there
Its exploring our potential and removing walls
so we no longer have to waste so much energy
pushing up against them.
Freedom is a warm kiss, a warm bed, a heart full of love
and a life without others demands.

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