A place that is special to me... Well I guess as your dreams, your hopes, your life change, everything else changes and differ, like few years ago my special place used to be my source of energy, the kitchen, I even wrote a poem about it, but as I became closer to sleep, closer for my life to end, the more life got uglier, the more looking for answers didn't matter anymore, my desires changed dramatically. Food wasn't as important, wasn't as equal, it didn't matter as how much the definition of life did, as how much freedom did.
Freedom, freedom was my special place, but what is freedom? To me freedom is getting privacy, it's when you feel the finger tips of the wind running through your dark curly hair. It's when the heavens blow to your crying eyes. It's when you get to hug the cold out of the polluted air. Whenever the silky fabric is adjusted to take away my last breath, my last cry, whenever it's wrapped tightly around my burnt neck, I would run away from the urge of killing myself and go to my special place, the place where I get to touch and grab the freezing plastic handle of the window and throw myself to life.
They broke the walls of life, they took away my happiness, but the more they destroyed, the more windows were added to allow the sun to send it's rays to embrace my weak body, the more light was sent from God to warm and melt my frozen heart, the more free I felt... They dreamt about some magical rose garden over the horizon, I dream about escaping from my bathroom's window
