Nicole Johnson

I lay here just for a little while—
The room has ceased to spin and my mind boggles yet again.
I’m trapped inside myself with my heart beating outside my chest.
These walls are caving in and my mind fluctuates between reality and fantasy.
I can’t shake the memories—
Each vision of my surrender is like a thousand tiny blades into my back.
The pleas for peace in my broken voice and the tears of joy when the war was over were spoken in nothing more than a mere whisper.
The emotions resurfaced as the life inside me faded in and out of consciousness.
The little flicker of hope barely in existence and yet it’s clung to so dearly.
A small tremble escapes me during the aftermath and I’m forced to look up.
There is no god here, no one up there above the clouds to watch over those who can’t defend themselves.
The reinforcements are here, freeing me from this cell where I’ve served nearly two life terms.
I may be free to leave, but the bracelet attached to my ankle tells me they will always know where I am.
What is freedom if it comes with limits?
Is anyone ever really free to live?