I Will Travel Light

I want what I sought as a child,
an agency unburdened
by inherited rules,
the weight of textbooks,
and fairy tales.

Maybe I didn’t know
that was the mysterious thing
I sought then,
but I see it now,
I feel that same pull.

I want to return
myself to me
anew.

I could tattoo my scars,
they could become
stars, flowers,
or a compass.

Transformed,
they would no longer
decorate my being
or outline my heart
in the worn-out shapes
of my past journeys.

I could empty
my over-stuffed closet,
schlep boxes and bags
to Goodwill
where my victim-laced,
dresses would be offered
at a fraction
of their original price.

I find that nothing is as heavy
as that which must be hidden
and later revealed,
so I will let it
all go,

pull out fresh paper
ready for a new shade of ink
and a story that starts
closer to the middle,
closer to now.

A clean slate has nothing
to forgive or be forgiven,
and no one cares
about my past anymore
but me, so why not?

I will bring myself to me
a thoroughly
decluttered heart,
a wide-open space
that expands beyond
half-century limitations.

I will be minimal.

I will travel light.

© 2019, A. Breslin. All Rights Reserved