Running through a field

All my scars: healed.

I no longer have a shield.

No longer, do I have to wield

A two-sided sword, ready to hurt anyone who speaks.

No longer, are my thoughts bleak.

I am free.

I am no longer in Tennessee.

That scar, on my knee:

I can't see.

I don't have to plea

To be happy.

I am free. I am...dead.