All my life
has been a search
for the one road
leading me to the place
that says,
You belong here
and I have been searching
for you too. Welcome home.
Make yourself comfortable
in that skin, put your feet up,
relax in your own quiet where
you feel safe, where it’s not
awkward just to breathe,
where being you is enough.
But it’s dark here
in this search
that remains unfounded,
the road crosses over
between almost there
and sorry, this road is closed.
Hitting roadblocks to see
what could be waiting
on the other side.
It’s always nothing
disguised as everything.
It’s giving all of myself
to the hands that give up
quicker than me
and I’m usually pretty quick.
It’s too much
running into closed roads
looking like arms
that want to hold me,
dropping me before
the first rest stop.
And I just keep driving,
making up songs along the way,
windows down, radio off,
conversations with myself
because I always answer.
I don’t know why I keep taking
this route, this road, this dream
that winds into a storm
with no way out.
A life term of wish I would learn,
wish I wouldn’t have done that,
wish it could’ve been different,
wish the stars would stop
fucking lying to my face
while falling, while laughing.
It’s never been funny.
Never been a joke
I can walk away from
like the weight of the world
suddenly turning light
and my feathers ruffle
in that trail that treads lightly
on things that matter.
I refuse them now,
tell them they never could fly
right anyway,
taking the direction of the wind
that feels too much
and never lets go.
So go… I don’t want feathers
unguarded down to the bone.
I have a heart for that.
I have a heart for that.
I had a heart for that.
I don’t anymore.
The storm stole it to turn the sky black,
lost my way when the view became
invisible and I lost track long enough
to see there was no road back.
I just stayed in the dark,
welcomed my blind spot,
continued the conversations
with myself and called it home.
-Stephanie Bennett-Henry
#stephaniebennetthenry
Do I already know that place (from some visit), or is it your writing that makes it seem so familiar?
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Reblogged this on cabbagesandkings524 and commented:
Stephanie Bennett-Henry – Darkness, darkness, home
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