Poets logo

Someplace New

Subjugated Succumbing

By Miss RiddlePublished 7 years ago 1 min read
1

As I sit in this new empty home that screams where I'm meant to be...

Fallen soldiers inside joked about what it was like fighting in the preliminary.

Feelings of long forgotten bouts of happiness are only created within the timely solitude.

For that which has become of my former self has died and will need a proper burial.

I remember the constant battle of back and forth, concurrent to the masteries of what would never be acceptable to anywhere else but inside of me...

But I learn to breathe again.

Breathe deeply and inhale the mixology of new experiences, sprinkled with an array of begotten wonder...

Time to live in all the ways intended, to feel the passionate thunder.

These things are repeated in such a manner that even I begin to believe just for a second that things are ready to be different...

As I sit here with all my tomorrow's promised, why does this feeling plague me into a guilt ridden quilt just laying in atrophy.

I left my happiness on my gypsy road to show you where it was OK to be safe.

Now happiness the forerunner of concerns, gleaming through the blinds of this summer retreat

As I sit in this empty home, once scared of who I was and who I became; I rejoice, accept and surrender to the beauty and wonder of what life has in store for me.

inspirational
1

About the Creator

Miss Riddle

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights

Comments

There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2024 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.