the Price of Freedom

I came to you leafless;
windblown tresses swaying;
a starry-eyed dreamer
plucking petals

from a borrowed wildflower bouquet.

How can one venture to take
something as fragile as a heart,
still beating to the chords of conviction,

and silence the strumming
of love’s most tender verse?

You left me in the rain;
peeled back, hollow
with nothing but a notebook of thoughts
the clothes on my back,
and the faith that Grandma gave me.

It turns out that was all I needed

to be free.

~

Advertisements

4 thoughts on “the Price of Freedom

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s