I am not my failures
I am not my parents
I am not my rejection letters
Nor am I my anxiety pills
I am not my childhood naivety
Or my teenage angst
I will tell you what I am
When I figure it out
(if I ever figure it out)
Because right now
I. Just. Am.

I sharpen my quill
And prepare for battle
No shield made of metaphors
To guard my self-doubt
And no similes to carry me through the trenches
Like a brave war horse.
I am on all fours
Crawling into the unknown depths of the plain pages
That blinding
Brilliant
White
I am falling into the unknown -
Falling into the trap of the enemy
Which I am certain is
Myself.

How could I forget?
Those brown eyes that spark up fires
They still shine me home

This place doesn’t feel like home anymore
It’s not the people who have changed
Nor the signs, shops or houses
It is I.
I am neither better, nor worse
Just grown
No longer bound like a dog to a lamp post.
This place is frozen in time
With the same old rituals and practices
I just cannot do
With sayings and languages
I can no longer speak
So I choose to leave
And pave a new path
Out of rubble, dust and anything else that is in the way.
I don’t mind
Because the frozen streets taught me well.
So well that the chill can no longer reach my bones
And call me home.

They might as well
have dug two graves
Because I, as well
Died too that day.
Life tugs at my heart
through the bones and the veins
Until hollowed out maiden
Is all that remains.