A Least I Am Free

I’m not sure where the first stanza of this poem sprang from, but it’s been sitting in the back of my mind, begging to be used.  I find the images so vivid, so physically there that it surprises me still.  Connecting the second stanza was a struggle, for sure.  I think it sounds OK, but the images don’t feel as real to me.  Maybe it’s because there isn’t anything concrete to see/ feel, but I still like it.

Up until I was writing this intro, I had a third stanza that felt weird to me.  I was playing with it for a few days and couldn’t come up with anything else.  And that’s when it hit me.  I didn’t need anything excessively long.  I could simply connect the entire thing back to what I was saying in the beginning: needing to be free and finally having that freedom, even though it came at a cost.  I’m a lot happier with this poem now and I’m hoping other people think it works as well.

There are bruises down my ribcage
From where my heart tried to escape
Where it hit so hard as it
Tried to break from its prison
To rip itself from
The suffocating flesh surrounding it
Until it got worn out
Tired of fighting and tired of trying
Tired of failing and tired of the pain.

This was something my heart never expected
To be unlocked from that constant state
Of love and doubt and fear and hate
Where it could chose what to do
And in the end it decided
That although it was bruised and broken
It needed to get away
So it could eventually heal
Eventually grow and eventually
Become whole again.

Even though I thought it might kill me
From the physical pain and the emotion anguish
Though I think it might still get me
Knock me down and keep me there…

At least I’m free


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