I found this piece buried by time and circumstance. It’s always fascinating reading poetry and other pieces I wrote a while ago. A glimpse into who I was. A snapshot of my wonderings.
I tried really hard to refrain from editing this piece. I…mostly succeeded. Past me knew what she wanted to say. Here is Locked Up.
Rattle Rattle
I pound my fists into the metal
Let me out of here
Desperate
Tired
Raw
Feeling broken
I’m done
Please let me out of here
~
Silence
Then
Look at your hands
~
I stop
I asked for freedom
Not a fortune teller session
Was I supposed to take up
Palm reading now
~
More insistently
The voice comes
Look at your hands
How is this supposed to help me
I want out
Now
Not reassurance
~
I give in
‘Cos I have nothing to lose
Palm open
I stare
It can’t be
I’d been locked up for ages
Filled with despair
Shame and anger
Fear had creeped in
With its cold company
~
But as I unclench my fists
I realize
I had the key all along
~Gloriaea’s younger self