Parts of me

I've never had a home,
a place I felt safe and secure.

All my life I've run,
place to place,
the towns and cities blur in my mind.

Darkness is familiar to me,
the place I always felt welcome.

There are times I want to stay here,
in the shadows that know me.

Other times I want to be free,
to feel the sunlight on my fingertips,
to breathe the fresh air.

Which do I belong in,
which one can I call home;
the dark, who protects me,
or the light, where I can be free?

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Christy Woodcock's picture

you have stolen the words right out of my soul! this poem speaks to me in volumes!