Where I used to Live

She doesn’t go back there much anymore. Most of her life was spent residing in a place of misery,
even if the outer appearance reflected something different.
It was the place of sadness and brokeness that used to consume her.
Little was ever known about the life of the girl who resided in this dwelling,
except to those who held her close.
And in that, few were allowed to enter.
Even in the midst of happiness she would go there, self sabotaging the moments of bliss.

She didn’t know it was possible to escape from this place, because it was all she’s ever known.
Moments of clarity were fleeting, and the ache always present.
“Home” wasn’t comforting or welcoming, it was suffocating and binding.
Crushing her inner spirit slowly. Extinguishing the glimmer of what she could be.

Be that as it may, deep down she came to believe she deserved better.
Slowly she ventured outside of this prison-like structure.
When she finally let love enter into the broken spaces; true and unconditional love,
only then did the walls of this shack she called “home” begin to crumble.
Piece by piece, and ever so slowly she was freed from what held her captive for far too long.
That house no longer exists in her world.
It is a distant memory.

I don’t live there anymore!