Moonlight. Illuminating
the silhouettes of
trees and glassy,
unmoving










dangers

The creaks and
groans of the
ladder, which








is

Solemn. Foreboding.
Grotesquely loud
to my untrained











ears

Quickly, quietly
gliding over
the rungs














a

Phantom, mischievous
and silent. A
sly, untamed












devil.

Finally, reaching
the cold, unforgiving
ground. The
earth, I must









use

To my humble,
fortified reserves.
Blissfully intelligent







to

Escape my bonds
and responsibilities.
Freedom, like








no

Other. Pursuing
my goal. Ignorant
of













consequences

That may abstain
from the maturing
of my limits.











capturing

The slow, but
sure progression
to the asylum
that I so












aspired

To join. A
city of
misfits,














artists

In their own
right. Wanting nothing
more than to be








free

From the social pariahs
of life itself. A
longing like









no

Other. Flames that
could only be
quenched by the
stern disapproval of
my overseers. No








longer

was my life
defined by my
wants and













needs,

Ambitions buried
by vast amounts
of time.












Rediscovered

by a spark,
that lead to
an inferno of









life.

My words, like
small, blissfully
happy birds.








Now

Free at last.

I wrote this piece to describe the point in my life when I learned that not everything is handed to you on a platter forged by ambition. You have to weave and sew, creating the life that you want. Not listening to the disapproval of anyone. When I say “city of misfits”, I mean the circus. When the need to be part of a bigger picture got to strong, fleeing to a world where being a freak is rejoiced. I learned to make my own way in this world. To not rely on the charity of others. And that set me free.