A hundred angered thoughts as I draw myself awake,
thrown from my mind by the pressure
of their fury. Bereft of attention, I am
hungered. And Alone. Not alone, but Alone.

There is a stirring as I rise, and all
seems as it should be, but there is a stirring inside.

A quietude of force, a seed,
roots now wrapping around my spine,
rising like the serpent with a magnitude I do not grasp.

The mirror smiles at me, and though I look
like shit, there is peace.

I commute, and somewhere in the between-ness,
There is a stillness, a clarity, that I am Free.
Free of what? Free of whom? Free.

Libera me, de eterna morte, vita en eterna morte.

I don’t know what it means yet, but for once
I feel free.