When Darkness Reaches Redemption

Photo by Sharon McCutcheon on Pexels.com

With each small ache, a memory stirs,
Of things I’m letting go of, though it hurts.
It feels like stretching a muscle that’s tight,
Resisting change with all its might.

Old boundaries press, discomfort grows,
I reach for a piece, a ledge I know.
A careful tear, a silent release,
As I fit together, piece by piece.

The surface is uneven, cold against my skin,
As I welcome the unknown, ready to begin.

My mind is fractured, reshaped, and burned,
Clearing space for truths that I’ve finally learned.

Unrecognizably warming slow,
Each piece a secret I start to know.
They twist and turn within my grasp,
Hints of a defect I ache to clasp.

I search for colors, the pieces I lack,
Moments of focus, but darkness pulls back.
Clarity flickers in the silence of dread,
Admitting my sorrow, the puzzle I tread.

I gather each piece, sweet girl, hear me say,
It wasn’t your fault; you found your own way.
Younger me learned from the weight of the night,
Now present me steps out, embracing the light.

Unfamiliar edges, where shadows reside,
Resentments and shame I can no longer hide.
Fears shift like fragments, a puzzle in play,
As bright colors emerge to light up the way.

I am Katrina– 11/01/2024

Photo by Oleksandr Pidvalnyi on Pexels.com

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