Sometimes thoughts flutter into my mind
like a butterfly and carve like a sword;
hemorrhaging ashen blood,
firing rounds from a Colt King Cobra
incising each sequinned
“who do you think you are” and
“not good enough” particle of matter
serrating it, cutting deeper than a blade.
That’s when I invoke the Shield of Freedom;
do I have freedom of thought?
Can I spill thoughts free, releasing them
awash with the tide?
I choose freedom from these thoughts,
gently disengaging my finger off the trigger,
free to raise my eyes to the stars.
Author: Effie Mourginos