I write (wrote) just for the thrill of it,
I write (wrote) because I liked it a little bit.

Verse was my drug of choice,
And ingesting rhyme is the reason for my raspy voice.

But I could stop whenever I wanted,
Now I won't stop because it pleases you.

From all these years questioning why I am alone?  Now I can simply answer, it was a choice I made that never made sense since until I see I was behind all closed doors.

In silence love is a ghost cold and detached
Whispers are lost estranged in a world so cold where warmth once burned but now simmers to a dim glow
In time we have been challenged the ashes encourage growth.

'choice' -
it's a weird impulse.
i did not choose to write this,
clearly.

What is a choice, anyway -
is it a freedom, or is it a burden?

For me,
it is a paralysis
between what is and what should be.

Who I am,
who I should be...
who I could be.

Choice opens up possibilities -
endless, unfathomable possibilities.

Choice is making a decision
I am not qualified to make.
In a world where manipulation is rewarded,
marginalisation is profited upon,
and freedom of choice is weaponised -

I’m not sure I feel free.

Where your freedom to choose
now carries with it the responsibilities of greedy oil companies,
tech giants,
and toxic product producers.  

It is the irony of being forced into a system
that tells you:
you chose to be here,
It’s your fault!

You drank the highly addictive Kool-Aid  
we forced down your throat,
and that addiction -
is your fault!

We are persuaded into thinking our choices are casual,
while they are anything but.

I relinquish my freedom to choose.

Instead,

I search for the freedom of simplicity -
where a choice becomes personal once again.

What clothing mood am I in today?
What do I feel like eating this morning?
How shall I spend my Sunday afternoon?
What’s my body telling me about this social interaction?

In lieu of...

Whose opinion should I base my personality on?
What can I justify as a “healthy” amount of time spent on social media?
Which chickens had the happiest lives?
What dishwashing liquid is the least toxic?

Yes -

I crave the simplicity of what is,
not what could be.

Often, I envy the unbothered-ness of the breeze -
sometimes going this way,
sometimes going that way.

Completely unconcerned with the junction between directions -
simply following its set course.

I'm talking to you;
Is it because I have to
Or because I want to?
I'm talking to you;
Is it to understand you
Or so I am understood?
I'm talking to you;
Is it that I like you
Or that I don't?
I'm taking to you;
Is it to hear myself
Or to be heard?
Is it solely from the verb
Or by the noun?
In this rhetoric,
Is it mine or ours or yours?
In this dialogue,
Is it gossip, chitchat, or conversation?
By the course of it
Is it chance, choice, or demand?
I'm talking to you
Or I'm talking with you?