(From the Writer’s Digest Wednesday Poetry Prompt 325)
I never thought I’d feel this way.
Days past I hung on every word
of his. He clipped my wings. Poor bird
refused the right to fly as they,
subject to whatever he’d say.
Never allowed words of my own
even when the falsehoods were thrown
at my feet, in my face. Too long
I stayed, justifying that wrong.
Leaving him—greatest peace I’ve known.