Coming Home

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: August 22, 2018

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Submitted: August 22, 2018



Coming home.


Wrapped around herself

Alone and in the dark

All good things have taken flight

And she sits cold and lonely in the night.

And through the day

Because in this space

There is no light.

Only black darkness that encompasses,

It folds in slowly

Barely noticeable except from her peripherals.

It twists and winds around her,

It wraps and enfolds

It chokes the life out of her

And leaves a weight on her soul.

A real weight on her chest

that makes it hard to move and breath

makes it hard to leave

makes it hard to go.


No one to tell her that this is not all there is

and because she doesn't know it becomes all there is

No way out and no way in

Years pass and things change,

sometimes for better and sometimes worse

but the darkness still lives inside her

and she fights against it some days

and some days it overwhelms her,

some days it wins.


I am here now.

I reach back in time to touch her

through fog and pain and black;

to where she sits alone in her misery

and I tell her without words its going to be ok.

I wrap my arms around her and fold her into my embrace

and allow her to let the darkness go

to feel something other than pain.

I absorb it for her, and know how to push it away.

This pain is yours, your do not belong to it.


We both weep for what it lost and what is gained

things felt that can never be undone

and both of us steady ourselves for the next step.

We take each others hands and step forward,

Bracing ourselves to go out into the light.

It burns and startles us at first

but we have each other to rely on

and we edge ourselves forward as one

the two of us stronger together than alone.

I am her and she is me

and we wont stop until the fight is done.


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