The Battle of Self
The Battle for Independence
Going up the stairs leading to her flat the steps appeared to be in pain not used to anyone walking on them at this hour
The kitchen door was open I entered into a bare, but clean room no modern kitchen equipment here, but an old wash basin made of tin hung on the wall
The living room was equally bare Pictures on the wall had been taken down yellow squares showing where they had been, and simple furniture except for a big table near the window, I pulled out a chair and sat down to a profound silence, so awesome I fell asleep.
When I awoke the room was compact of infrasonic voices I had to struggle to get up to fight my way to the door and open
it into the kitchen, a mighty power tried to hold me back
tearing at my very being
Finally, I was out of the house and onto the darkening street
trying to breathe normally and lit a cigarette inhaling deeply
feeling relieved I had escaped.
I walked to the town center what I needed was to see people
hear music and see the color of life.
The past had nothing to do with me anymore, I had fought my way to freedom. The price was high, a sailor in the stormy sea of humanity
Copyright © Jan Hansen | Year Posted 2023
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