Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Mark's Poem Archive - 2. The Outside
With my dog in stride, I stepped into the outside
An outside warm and welcoming, safe and painless
Feeling the air filling my lungs, stroking my skin
My frown disappeared this was my peace, my sanctuary
Across fields, scaling old stone walls centuries old
No time to ponder their past, the outside was calling I was here at last
Feeling the outside filling my head freeing my thoughts for the day to come
The outside was a part of me, here’s where I belong
I had reached my wood, a barking fox, a hooting owl, my greeting
The scent of bluebells and wild garlic mixing together
This was the outside, this belonged to me
Twigs snapping under my feet as I carried on
I looked back into the distance, a small house on a hillside
A closet full of memories I tried to forget
Feeling the distance, I felt memories fade into the horizon
I was almost home, this is where I belonged
Grinning as I reached my goal then disappeared into the earth
Into the underground room I had made years before
Lined with fleeces and snugly warm I curled up with my dog
This was the outside, this was home, and this was my sanctuary
- 7
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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