Lingering Threads

The dust settles in the corners of my

mind,

Where ghosts of old mistakes are neatly lined.

I keep the doors locked tight,

To keep out the fading light,

Of days I’d rather leave behind.

Every “what if” is a splinter in my skin,

A jagged edge of where I might have been.

I turn the question over,

Like a stone beneath the cover,

And let the silence answer from within.

I hear my name inside

the walls,

A little echo when the daylight falls.

I reach for air,

I reach for you,

But every room reflects what I refuse to do.

Then somewhere underneath the ache,

A quieter

part of me begins to wake.

Not every scar is a warning,

Not every shadow means the morning

Has to find me the same

way.

I loosen every lock I made,

Let the old ghosts wander out and fade.

The light comes in softly,

It doesn’t ask me to be spotless,

It only asks me not to turn

away.

I hear my name

beyond the walls,

Not an echo now,

but something that calls.

I reach for air,

I reach for you,

And leave a little room for something

new.

The dust still settles in my mind,

But I don’t have to keep it all confined.

I open the door tonight,

And let in the fading light,

To find the self I left behind.