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.