What Was Their Freedom?

By Shaina Cintron

When you were tied up 

because of the ignorant blood of another,

What did freedom look like?

Was it the air whispering through the droplets of sweat 

Fading down your skin?

Or 

Was it the birds humming to their own tune?

Did the ground beneath you feel alive?

Or 

Was it dead energy from the ones before you struggling to survive?

What was freedom for you?

Was the only thing that ran freely, 

The blood from your open wounds?

Or 

The tears that could no longer hold space 

In your eyes.

By Shaina Cintron