Control

Your weapon of choice, a piercing harsh tongue.
the most hurtful shots, fly straight through her lungs.
Leaving her breathless, shaken to her core,
dismiss all emotions, by slamming their doors.

Your ego is so strong, it eats at her soul,
she tries to hold on, but gives up control.
Her mind is all bruised, along with her heart,
too strong to let go, too weak to depart.

Alone in the cold, no where else to be,
no money for food, afraid of the streets.
Fearful to go home, she already left,
slowly walking back, with stones in her chest.

She looks for an option, searching hard for strength,
finds answers inside, while holding her breath,
the slowest exhale, releases her pain,
you may hold her body, but never her brain.

Embracing the moment, the time is right now,
she knows she will make it, but does not know how.
Decides not to enter, instead turns around,
will start from the bottom, pull up from the ground.

The sun shines so bright, glistens on her face,
she may be unstable, but will find her place.
Good riddance to you, she has no regrets,
knowing she is ready to pass any test.

– Grace Y. Estevez – Reddy

Originally Published January 15, 2021

68 thoughts on “Control

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  1. This is both sweet and interesting, Grace. People go through a lot, but with a resolute mind and a confident mind victory comes. Resilience spotted. Such a great unity of messages in one piece.

  2. This reminds me of making the decision to keep my kids. Ive lost my entire family repeatedly… On paper. This was a mistake… On paper. But was it..

  3. A gorgeous poem, Grace! The line..you may hold her body, but never her brain..stood out for me. Well penned 👍🌺❤️

  4. That was awesome I loved the last passage it was so true to me. It hit the right places honestly. I feel like I could beat the world but I can’t but I know i will have my turn. Do you know that feeling.

  5. Nothing is as terrible in this life as a careless cankerous tongue, and along with an insensitive partner, life can be quite traumatic. I could feel the pain floating in this poem. This is poignant yet so realistic, Grace. She will rise again.

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