Freedom

TRIGGER WARNING

My kind of freedom has a silvery glint to it in a certain light.
My kind of freedom comes with razor sharp edges,
Svelte and proper when held in hand.
Glides smoothly, moves easily, like a knife slicing through butter.
Cuts swiftly, creating crimson lines as it goes.
I throw freedom to the side, and wait as the color of a broken heart seeps out.
The color of a heated argument,
Angst and hopelessness.
The color of your final breath before being taken into the light.
The color surrounds me, along with darkness, pushing me further towards the sky.
I see light.
I feel freedom.