|picture credit: http://hypnotises.deviantart.com/art/SECRET-II-83979563|
It was a day like any other, but it was the day that she chose,
to lift the anchors in her life without ties.
The St. Christopher glinted around her neck, reflecting a light,
hers to own, if she chose to look through windows
untouched by layers of grime.
With a passion she delved into cupboards and trunks
overflowing with mementos that brought both pleasure and pain.
At first hesitantly, then recklessly, she tossed out papers, crumpled with age,
faded images of faces bleached by years in the sun.
At times she felt a stab of pain, just like the hope that was crushed
as those dreams disintegrated,
while others she recognised as the stop at the door
that prevented it from closing all these years.
Tears flowed freely as she threw them all away,
yet the tears were those of relief.
For finally she had space, space for new things,
as the final goodbyes were said,
granting her the freedom from the bounds that have halted
her passage forward in life …