The Feast Beyond The Cage

The more I break free, the more I taste.
And the more I taste, the more I want.

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At first, I thought freedom would be quiet—
a calm breath after years of suffocation.
But freedom is not silence.
It is appetite.

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Each chain I snap becomes a flavor.
Each fear I dissolve, a sip of something sweeter.
The body that once felt like a cell
now feels like a temple built for joy,
for movement, for fire.

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The mind that once circled itself like a guard dog
now runs open fields, chasing horizons
instead of shadows.

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Freedom is not the end of struggle.
It is the birth of hunger—
to see, to love, to create, to live so fully
that death itself feels like a guest at the table,
not a warden at the door.

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I am not done.
I will never be done.
Because the more freedom I taste,
the more I know life was meant to be devoured whole.