Out of this box i yearn to leave

suffocating me in agony

i want to stretch

to breathe wholly

crinkles and shreds outside of it

i can smell the freshness

seeing a glimmer into the open

world

So liberated. I’m out and I don’t want to go back.

I can explore what I have been deprived of.

Wear shorts on scorching days.

Tantalize my taste buds with foreign spices.

Broaden the hairs in my ears with notes of another tongue.

Now

I want my box. With someone always checking in on me.

I want to show and tell what I found. So they can experience it for themselves.

I miss the comfort. That once kept me from getting branded by the harsh heat of judgement.

I miss safety. Where the flavors were constant and familiar.

My home? My box? My home of a box that has grown. Larger than before, but still

Mine.