Town 47
'Finally, another moving box unpacked', she thought to herself, while leaning towards the rest of the boxes, rising 4 pillars of 5 cardboard boxes each in the middle of the living room. She never thought she had that much, the most common of her thoughts after every move; here once again she had a shock to the system, as if she's being oblivious to the abundance of books and trophies and statues and trinkets. Each piece holding a story, of course, a memory and a collection of emotions, and she had savoured all of them in an attempt to observe her own growth towards being free from the need to be Free. She didn't have them to look back and live in the past at all; instead they were stepping stones to the future. To choose whether to keep or leave them behind, and to own that decision, was motivating, encouraging, and put a smile on her face. 'At least I'm not broken', she thought next, here moving away from toxicity, healing all that pain, leaving shame behind, owning up to the responsibility of self-care, learning to love herself, facing fears, annihilating regrets, not dreading all the years taken from her by others. Now, standing in her new home in a new town - number 47 to be exact, humble by the fact that new walls and floors would hold her safely on her journey. She was grateful for the opportunity to breathe, and for the love that her mirror had welcomed her with. This, right here, was Freedom.
Her dreams were still safe.
In her Inner Most Sacred,
A Rising Phoenix.
Copyright © Skye Awenborn | Year Posted 2022
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