Leaving
My Life Behind
The
house seems smaller,
Without
furniture.
The men
move through,
Grabbing
the last of my life
And
loading it up into the truck.
I stand
still holding my breath.
Twelve
years.
I
collapse to the floor
Of my empty room.
The
carpet rough against my bare legs.
The summer
sun shining on my face.
Tears
flood my eyes,
Filling
them with the memories of the past.
My
shoulders moving up and down,
My
breath becoming hard.
Pull it
together.
Quickly
I leave,
Starting
a new life up from the ground.
Where
the hell is Iowa?
I
didn’t know anything other than
The
green grasses of Indiana.
Fourteen
years.
I watch
as my life grows into a distant memory,
And I move on into a
new beginning.
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