Image shows tied hands
Poetry

Tentmaker

Bonds are not chains.

Yes, they made us from the same box.
A soggy, dented dough that you can cut through with vinegar – stir with salt until your arm aches – but comes back sweet.
I could live a whole life like it mattered.
If things were different that might have been love.
But,

Bonds are not chains.

Yes, we chose each other.
Life set up the board, but we chose to play this game – to wedge our puzzle pieces together – so, maybe we owed each other for that time.
I was happy to cling to that debt.
In certain weathers it was a roof.
But,

Bonds are not chains.

Yes, it was the highest flag I ever planted.
The peak and craggy slope of a mountain I saw when I was eight – someone I could be – and I don’t regret climbing.
I have been Someone With A Purpose.
It was a promise I made to myself, with honour in it.
But,

Bonds are not chains.

Love lets others rise and doesn’t find it empty.
Justice recognises being Free can cost more than its fair share.
Prosperity is the fullness of contentment.

Was I ever lacking?
Is connection a pound of flesh?

No,

Bonds are not chains.

So,

Let them break.

If you enjoyed reading this poem, check out Run From Ruin, by Zoe Abernethy, also on the theme of boundaries.

 

 

 

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