Freedom came in the form of a step. A beat.
All I had to do was hear, I didn't need to see.
I didn't need the light when music flooded me.
Swing left, I stripped off my fear.
Swing right, I stripped off my shame.
Beat drop. I breathed out, "I will be unapologetically confident without being blamed."
My joints won't lock.
My bones won't break.
My limbs won't be shackled by noisy lies and heart ache.
As I sway my hips to the drum's beat,
I let the footwork progress faster on my feet.
Falling front, I count, "Five six seven eight."
Music dictated what my body could create.
That's the rush of a song, the freedom in a beat.
It's a glowing sensation with undeniable heat.

But beats die down and songs end.
The high that is felt starts to descend.
But in the rush of the song,
I know I tasted freedom in my heart.
But when I opened my eyes,
I was still dancing in the dark.