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Aug 2020
The dissipated heat of evening air
seeks reprieve
in snaking tendrils of gated iron.
A silent, prolific expanse
beyond which I can see:
the memories unfurling,
my future beckoning.

Stolen fleeting glances back
as I open the gate latch;
it is in this moment now
that everything becomes undone.
A reclusive part of myself has long
been consumed and condemnedβ€”
fighting tooth and nail
in a life intertwined with hell,
leaving me to grapple with fears all alone.

One shaky step forward, then two.
I break into a delirious run.
The feel of solid concrete,
the revitalising wind without a careβ€”
a path from a place I no longer call home.
I yearn for freedom, I hunger to feel
something other than
abusive regrets, they beget
perennial laughter,
giving way to countless tears,
the hurt and the lies.

So it’s beyond that front gate where I promise to find
a rekindled self, a new state of mind,
as shadows cast behind me in the slanting sun,
my face upturned to receive the light.
All the suffering and tumultuous pain
now shed like old skin,
and a new set of wings unfold
to soar the skies again.
My most beautiful self reflected
by the deepest shards of my being:
in it lies
a bruised but wondrous heartβ€”
wide open, ready for some healing.
It's been a long, long time since posting here. I wrote this a while back. It's still bittersweet.
Book Thief
Written by
Book Thief  F
   Druzzayne Rika
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