PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

You tell me this place is welcoming

this place is like a quiet haven in the woods no one knows about

You tell me I’m just wearing the wrong shoes

but how can that be

when every so often I find myself

alone in a closet again,

waiting on some hero to come bang down the door

just so I can have some semblance of freedom?

Of course there’s no hero here

there’s only these legs

that keep stumbling and somehow they stay upright and

until now no matter how far I’ve pushed my muscles

they don’t snap

they get stronger with every step

so I leave the closet and slam the door behind me.

But once I’m out I keep tripping over nails and two-by-fours

that jut out of the walls

taking up space in your brain I should occupy,

and tearing up these shoes I’ve used to explore your hallway for so long,

pulling blood out of my body

but I swear it’s not your fault

it’s just the treacherous slope you’re making me tread-

I should wear better shoes.

I should be more cautious

trying to figure you out

in this volatile maze of a mind

I should step silently

around the nails and debris

to keep you from screaming.

But it’s not worth it

I can’t count the nails before I’m upon them,

I’ve been through too much on this floor

to throw away the battle scars

So I run down your hallway

in broken shoes

I don’t need to walk on sharp steel like it’s eggshells

I don’t need to find safety

I need to find the fire alarm

and then I need to find the door

and get past the fence and the driveway you keep a parked car in to keep me a mile from home

but trust me, in these broken shoes I can get farther than you and your clenched-tight fists and lonely narrowed eyes can even dream about

That’s okay, I can ruin these shoes

because once I escape

I have all the time in the world

to build myself a new pair of shoes

and go sprinting down the airplane runway

until I finally take flight.