Break

poetry

For so long I’ve been staring at this pale ground.
But these cemented feet have stood still too long.
With every inhale, this casket crumbles
And the vestige of your binds dispels to ash.
If you thought your insults like razors
Would keep me raw and wounded
And your seductive words like siren’s songs
Would keep me snared, then you were wrong.
Because I won’t be here
For you to tear me down,
And moving on is
One.
Step.
Forward.