freedom is a cheap dream:

the universe is nothing but cold,

empty space, and

i’m just the remnants of a supernova,

a collection of atoms,

a complex system of organs and neural circuitry evolved over millennia—

no one is ever truly free.

in critical moments,

the freedom i’m fighting for is always

assaulted Brutus style—

from the inside.

the enemy is never external,

but always my own body, and

the only choice is

between pain and

the idea of pain.

but even when i’m not

inundated with pain or

paralyzed by fear,

life is a moment-to-moment struggle against

thirst, fatigue, depression, or

the rent.

even in my sleep,

i’m not free.

photo: photo via @cigaretlove via @theofficialthirteen

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