Creative Writing

Away I Go from the Place I Once Called Home

By Klaudia Wiacek

Photo Credit: Adobe Stock

It’s starting to get colder here

The space that I’ve once called home is one I don’t know anymore

A spell of mystical longing has been casted upon me

I can’t stay here much longer 

I’ll simply freeze to death

My body will shut down and the warm blood that flows within me will soon turn ice cold

It’s starting to get colder here 

As the orange leaves fall from the trees they seem to leave the leftover branches exposed for the upcoming months

Exposure that turns into vulnerability

Vulnerability that pinches my heart and soul

A sting of immense pain ripples all over my body and soul

Leaving a deep hole that cannot be filled

It’s starting to get colder here

An icy trail begins to form as I take my first steps away

Following the interval of one and two and three and so on, pausing frantically 

My mind is running faster than my body 

My heart is beating faster than the number of steps I take

“It’s freezing cold here,” I say

I now must continue along this trail of uncertainty 

As my home is no longer mine

Down I go towards this never ending path 

The air is frigid and leaves a brisk impression among the surface of my skin

My head is spinning, like a carousel that never stops turning  

I walk along the edge of a weak thread 

I search for an illuminating light out 

Down I go towards this never ending path

A striking feeling of warmth begins to infiltrate my frigid blood

A campfire has started within my body

I say to myself, “you’ve finally made it out”

But I haven’t

My eyes drop to ground and seconds later my body lays on the cold and icy pathway

I say to myself, “It’s starting to get colder here”

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