Tell the story of liberation to my children when you tell them about my death.
Tell them what I died for.
Tell them how long I got to live.

Tell them the whole story, please...
...leave nothing out...

Not the depression, not the sin, not the lies, not the happiness - whether it was deserved or not - you better tell them I was happy, too.

Give them, at least, that satisfaction and tell them I experienced even a little bit of joy...let them know that I did not always suffer...let them know that life can be enjoyed...leave nothing out...

Everything is going to ****.
My body is breaking down, my mind is heavy
And my heart is slouching behind it all.
For the first time, I welcome these pains and I don't block them out -
This is the first time that I'm feeling bad because of my body
Rather than because of the bad things inflicted upon me from other people
And I realize that there are two kinds of personal pain
And I don't know which one is more suffocating or if they're equal
But, for right now, it feels like I'm breathing in
Harsh, clean winter air
Rather than humid, murky vapor.

Friends for fifteen years.
Thrown away in five minutes.
Why, then, don't I grieve?

You are mad at me for wearing my oddity on my sleeves
We can’t choose to have a descrite ,
Invisible oddity
We are get what we are given
We can’t choose our identity
What makes us comfortable
We can’t choose what fixes us
It is the way it

I May look different to you
I may wear my oddity with pride
God knows how long it took me to overcome
The violent outburst from you

Maybe you are mad for I do the thing you wish you could do yourself
Something you deny for yourself
Identity liberation
I can’t deny who I am
I can’t hide
And I never will

Dipped for years in sensory deprivation, my heartstrings had atrophied to the point of numbness. Self-harm was my only tool of getting feelings into my system… My voice was screams confined in vacuum. My smile came up only as burns and blisters blissfully stretching on each side of my surface.
Where am I now? I'm out. Prison break successful. My thoughts were the bars; my self-loathing, my walls; my heart was the lock… Did I carve out the key out of my guts? Was it a re-purposed rib? I can't recall. But I'm out now. And I'm real. I gave myself shape and soul. A second chance.
I have two wings; one black, one white… And I… forgave the past. And my veins carry freedom towards my brain, feeding every synapse. Thank you everyone, who loved me when I was the least deserving. May You be blessed!

I'm not gentle nor cultivated bland
It's the wolf howling from my inside.
Its brunning my nerve and brain by
rising the blood flow within my vain.
It's the time for my struggle for liberation.
I'm not the  lamb nor domestic civilized
my wild heart calling, from rib caged inside.
Its want to stain red by shine of the sun
or see you hunting, shoot down by your gun.
It's the time for my struggle to wild liberation.
So, I refuse this poison,
break the prison and fly like the eagle
Yes I am wild and I love to be..