It’s difficult to believe,
looking back through the haze that’s intervening years,
that once I resided in a prison
built as protection
stone by stone
by my own hand.
I thought it a castle,
not a trap,
but one wall followed another,
another wall to hide my heart,
another wall to hide behind,
another wall to keep the pain at bay,
but the pain came anyway.
for the prison was within me.
for my tormenter was self-told lies.
The prison held only emptiness until,
on my knees,
I beheld two choices:
find my way out or within myself die.
in this place where the air is free
for freedom within is boundless.
set yourself free,
for within you the possibilities are endless.
©September 2014, Christina Anne Hawthorne