By: Isolde Pierce
The author letting the warmth in on the porch of her happy place.
Shackled with fear,
plagued with grief.
A sliver of hope lingered
in the abyss
of what was once my heart.
I pleaded
I prayed
enveloped in the pain
wondering if I’d ever feel warmth again.
Paralyzed
by the fallacy
of self preservation.
There was a time where I swore
detachment was key
to safety
to peace.
I surrendered to the cold
and let it consume me.
And then one day
the sun came up
the chrysalis emerged from its encasement
the orange pink skies
the rush of the tide
implored me with the vigor to heal
and I healed
I healed
I healed.
The sliver of hope shifted
into a beacon of optimism,
a reclamation of power
The chains unlatched
fear welcomed with grace.
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