Your Shoes
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Your Shoes
Are the wrong size.
I never liked how they looked, but I was silent.
You made me that way, for a long time.
Not forever.
All grown up now,
I can buy my own shoes.
I don’t have to depend on cast offs…from you.
I no longer run at the sound of thunder,
I have not done that since I was six.
Lightning hit the ground, black…!!!
It took me years to return the “colors” that were
taken, stolen, cruelly and brutally made real.
The truth,
I could never have done it…
alone.
He is with me now.
He was with me then, only I did not understand.
He has taken the tempests of my past and turned them…
into summer showers to water flowers.
My heart ever grows stronger.
There is finally room to both,
forgive and forget.
It is not for you.
He knows I do not care to recall.
I choose to be free.
Cutting and dropping the solid chains,
the sticky webs,
hollow spiders turned to dust…
poof.
Gone.
Copyright © Ann Foster | Year Posted 2019
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