Halcyon

the illusion of choice

they told me i was free, uh oh,
handed me a map
already folded and crumpled.
there were doors everywhere,
polished, numbered, generous,
each one opening
into the same room.
oh, look, i chose freely,
from the options i was allowed.
the dice cruised easily in my hands,
oiled with history,
weighted by preadolescence
every throw a same surprise
that felt suspiciously familiar.
fear convinced me
it was wisdom.
and who can argue
with the wisest thought?
fear filled the forms,
signed the papers,
pre-approved my decisions
in ink that looked like caution.
i mistook hesitation for depth,
obedience for peace.
i called the narrowing
a path to unbridled freedom.
choice is a corridor
pretending to be a field—
wide enough to walk,
never wide enough
to run.
and still,
they will say i stayed
because i wanted to.

oh, screw the irony.