Let me go there, where the world ends and hope rises—the hope that one day someone like me will not have to come here at the end of the world to find herself, that people will stop me with the string called love, not by the chain of possessiveness.

Let me go there, where I can be myself without having someone’s name tag over my head, where people know me by my own name. Where there is the world, respect me because they want to, not because they have to. Because the respect they show me now is far from the actual respect, whenever they see me.

Let me go there, where they don’t scan me as if I’m some kind of machine that has different parts under her clothes. They see me with empathy, where I don’t have to over explain things. They understand me even with the head node, as they understand the others. They don’t take it as a yes.

Let me go there, where the world rises again, but equally on both sides, and tell its people that nights are equal for everyone, even for us.

Let me go there to find this world where I don’t feel that I’m not caged under certain responsibilities, but I feel overwhelmed by that.

Let me go there and be responsible on my own. You don’t have to stand up in my way and tell me, “You’re my responsibility.”