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.