(In conversation with my torturer)
I am not
caffeinated mornings
Or their
lazy yawns
Printed
across newspaper they read
Benevolent
with daily doses
Of
delusional truths
I am not
the subject
Of their
calculated headlines
The impassioned
uncivilized person
In their crafty
columns
And
precisely captured photographs
I am not
a footnote
They
quote me tirelessly
In
defense of their education
Their
obsession
Only
amuses me
Like a
dog
Playing
in the park
Fetching
the ball religiously
Every
time it’s is thrown away
Freedom is
a secret
We all
have to deserve it
I have a
secret place
Called
freedom
I live
there
Don’t
bother to search it
The map
is etched
On the
walls of my retina
You want
my secret
Look straight
into my eyes
Scratch my retina