with a burst against the silence.


There is freedom in being you,

in wearing your clothes,

pouring out your personality into your identity.

There is freedom in the way you zip up the boots,

or pull on the jacket,

and present yourself to the world

on a wintery night.

There is freedom in the way you give in

to all the things you never wanted to begin with,

Turning into the mirrors of stereotypes

we begin to covet freedom


And then her reflection asked : ‘what are you trying to do?’

and she quietly put away the lipstick

and analysed her freckles for the secret code

to a life

without the insecurity.

‘There are no ugly women in the world, just one’s without make up’