suicidal √

{supposed} freedom

being free,
i found a job.
i worked at a café.
i had brown locks cascading down my back.
i covered my freckles
to avoid being caught.
i changed my name illegally
but that is alright.
when i have enough money,
i would make it legal.

working at the café,
everyone was jubilant,
accepting me in the crew.

i was still in trial.
being free,
is very vivacious.
being in that home,
i felt feeble after what happened.

i am supposed to forget the past.
not reminisce it.

"hey bonnie? you okay?"

i nodded my head.

"is this your handwriting?"

i looked at the note.
it was the letter i threw out.
the letter i hoped someone would read.
and someone did.

"how did you know alex?"
i asked while dragging him to the lockers.

"well, i saw your application
and saw how similar it was
to this letter.
so i was just asking.
curiosity is killing me."

"well, alex. that was the old me.
i fought through the battle.
now they can't find me.
please, keep it a secret."
tears almost threatened to spill.

"it's ok lana. i will protect you"

he pulled me into a hug
that i had longed for.