Posted in Photography, Poetry

Coming into my own.


My own space. Mostly in my head. Yet, I stretch my arms up and out.

Fear diminishes. Courage sets in and becomes comfortable. Silence.

An awakening. Your idea of me no longer digs into my heart.

The match you hold hangs over my head. I close my eyes. Pray instead.

3 thoughts on “Coming into my own.

  1. The image and lines you have penned suggest standing out on a balcony in the early morning sun, stretching and feel you can take on the whole world, the air gives life πŸ™‚

    Like

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