{"text":"I am not a Sunday morning inside four wallswith clean bloodand organized drawers.I am the hurricane setting fire to the forestsat night when no one else is aliveor awakehowever you choose to see itand I live in my own flamessometimes burning too bright and too wildto make things lastor handlemyself or anyone elseand so I run.Run run runfar and wideuntil my bones ache and lungs splitand it feels good.Hear that people? It feels goodbecause I am the slave and ruler of my own bodyand I wish to do with it exactly as I please.","author":"Charlotte Eriksson","tags":["ache","alive","alone","awake","blood","body","bright","burn","fire","flames","forest","free","free-will","hurricane","independent","lit","litquote","morning","myself","night","organized","people","poetry","prose","prose-poetry","run","solitude","songwriter","sunday","sunday-morning","the-glass-child","walls","wild"],"id":29181,"author_id":"Charlotte+Eriksson"}