I thought of home as the brisk air traced the ridges of my face and I didn't cry.
I smiled at what used to be my childhood as I swung up high.
I remembered what was good - when it was good - this time.
Not of the monster with the beer cans or the demon with an ego too big for himself.
I smiled as I remembered how suffocating it all was - and how good it felt to finally take a deep breath.
YOU ARE READING
The Swallows and the Sunsets
PoetryI tend to find meanings in things not intended to have one.
