Permission
The first cracks of light
started on the inside
thoughts that rubbed together
and created a spark
piercing through the dark armour
I had been forced to donThe cloak
the mantle
of the good girl
the ‘Bless me father
for I have sinned’
the stoicism
from deep within
the rosary beads of my DNA
the absolute
‘do what you are told’Anxiety performs a citizen’s arrest
Each time you step beyond
the boundary of how
everyone has defined youThe dropping of the guard
standing naked in myself
picking up the pen
crossing the bridge
The defiance of finally
not asking for permission
© Tanya Southey
#52words52weeks
