Freedom comes in strange flavors
That hit the tongue like fire,
Like ice, like a sweet candy,
Like a retching piece of gristle,
Or even like a tasteless thing
That passes without notice.

Freedom always seems strange at first.
What do I do now? It seems dark in here.
Nothing is the same, all is misplaced.
What's that? Where's that?
Who are you? Who am I?
It's disorienting.

Like leaving home with no goodbye
Nothing stays the same.
The smallest things seem to satisfy.
Everything needs a new name.

12/27/2009

Posted on 01/14/2010
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