by Cole McNamara / perilpoet

The fire in my heart—it seethes,
aching to be free.
He's shackled by expectations, 
and fears of what could be.

I'm ready to get ou—
What about our house? 
I'm ready to collapse the syst—
What about our income?

The other half of me—
a flowing current of doubt,
and he refuses to see—
the wild beyond our doorway, 
all the possibles.

What if I just go? 
Since there's no sense in reason. 
What if I just go—
they'd hang me for treason.

So maybe I'll just stay—
and just sacrifice my happiness? 
Yeah. It's the safer way. 

Suppress and regress, in excess.
Suppress and regress, in excess.
Suppress and regress, in excess.

No. 
No!
NO!

I have to get out—
I need to choose me,
I see the bigger plan, 
and what is meant to be.

I have so much potential, 
but not inside this box.
Please come with me—

I need financial Freedom—
not counting every due.
I promise we'll be happy,
unbound from 'have to' glue. 

If you like this piece, you might also enjoy:

• You Are Not Alone — a Hearth poem reminding you that idols, strangers, and your own family are tired too, and you still have more life left in you.
• The Machine Drinks First — a Ruin poem about a world in drought, where we feed the machines our last water while rivers choke, skies pale, and we’re left with trembling, empty hands.