19. Racing

Racing

down the halls,

down past my father’s chambers

where I helped him so much,

past my favourite hiding places

and my mother’s birthing rooms,

past the grand ornaments and shells

placed so delicately around the palace.

And past the secrets and the laughs

I often heard at my own expense

from my sisters and my aunts.

I ran past the high arches

that felt so stifling now to me,

a reminder of father’s decree,

of a home that felt hostile to me,

until I was outside.

Until I could not run

anymore, until I collapsed,

exhaustion clawing at me because

shame,

sadness,

anger

is not something

you can run from.

If ads affect your reading experience, click here to remove ads on this page.