Two years ago, they said I wasn’t welcome.

In the home I had made my own,

over ten years.

I made a move,

To a house of one room.

The year I began to honestly heal.

If I’d had a welcome rug, it got pulled.

I was bitter but determined,

My new abode would have no rugs.

I began building myself again.

From the ground up.

Bitterness began to dislodge

Because it was too heavy and unstable.

Joy and peace are lighter and stronger.

It built me to this,

To success

To a home in myself again.


Published by sickybeat

I am a writer with an extremely active imagination. I love learning answers to questions and what makes everything and everyone tick. I am a "Unique case, medically" if nothing else. I am flawed in my extreme aversion to failure (even when "success" isn't good for me,) but have come a long way in ditching the perfectionist mindset. I like people whose default setting toward others is compassion, an open mind, and honesty

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