I am finding myself again in the pavement under my feet and 7-Eleven coffees after work,
library nights and wearing out sneakers on two-mile walks in the cold,
old habits find their way back quickly like life was on pause, hibernating for years while I burrowed into you, burying parts of my identity to make space for us
invisible compromises dig themselves out from graves six feet deep
and I take inventory again
of who I am and what I want and where I'm going,
of all the things I used to know and all the things I learned,
of who I am without restraints I couldn't see until the shackles came off in your absence
About the Creator
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I AM
This is not who I thought I would be. Before my family was captured and forced into slavery, I had aspirations of becoming a wealthy business owner or possibly a scholar and philosopher. Becoming a warrior was the furthest thing from my mind. Unfortunately, our Roman conquerors had other plans.
By Mark Gagnona day ago in Fiction
Comments (2)
Great poem, thank you for sharing.
This was extremely powerful! Loved it so much!