“When patterns are broken, new worlds emerge.”
She walked out the door
violently ignoring the voices
reminding her of her station
her duties
trying to bind her with slippery bonds of guilt
twisted thornily with prestige
she looked neither back nor sideways
her feet never faltered
in their urgent compulsion
towards the woods
the crying she had done nightly
in secret
into her pillow
now surged out of her
for the first time unchecked
a tidal wave of misery
pain released freely
because no one could hear her
they would not follow into those woods
the trees were different there
the air was silent
and time passed as it wished
the herbs and grasses
guided her by scent
as crying still she crossed the border
under a canopy of vigilant leaves
where her heart was finally calmed
finally comforted
and there she still stays….
*artwork by marc potts*
Chimera Poetry 