The Black Horse

The Black Horse

You never came to be owned,

you came already knowing the shape of escape,

your breath heavy with nights that never slept,

your body carrying stories older than names.

I watched you stand still yet ready,

as if the world could change its mind at any moment,

your eyes holding something broken and beautiful,

something I recognised without understanding.

They said you were wild like it was a fault,

like freedom was a thing that needed taming,

but I saw how you listened to the ground,

how you trusted silence more than words.

There was darkness in you, yes,

not cruel, not dangerous, just honest,

the kind that refuses to pretend it is light.

however you where beautiful.

You moved like memory does,

sudden, unstoppable, refusing to stay buried,

every step stirring something I thought was gone,

every turn pulling me closer to myself.

And when you disappeared into the distance,

I realised I had never been watching you at all,

I had been watching the part of me

running still, refusing to settle, while living in the past