POV
I’ve changed the residence of my boundaries and the number to my standards
I’ve moved
I no longer live at that place where you last saw me.
the place where I allowed you undeservedly and unapologetically cross my threshold of boundaries
time after time
I’m done
I no longer have access to that Voice mail box
that is full of broken promises and over t as stepped boundaries
I no longer have that number
That number which i gave sun freely and without consideration for preservation of other peoples feelings
The number that too many people had unaccompanied access to, dialing it when convenient for them
Calling late in the night at ungodly hours
The number you have dialed is no longer available,
I’ve switched carriers.
This new number I hold tight I don’t comprise with my standards and barriers .
If you’re trying to reach me . … Good luck!!!
I’m no longer at that place ..
I’m – no longer in that space
I no longer accept apologies without out change — it’s Manipulation
I no longer entertain situations .. that don’t benefit me .
If you’re looking for me, good luck,
the person that you used to have access to
Is gone. I’ve grown, I’ve learned how to live
I thrive in a healthy and happy zone.
I No longer live in chaos
I’m No longer claiming bare minimum and manipulation as my physical address
I’ve changed the residence of my boundaries and the number to my standards
I’ve moved on from my rundown ghetto neighborhood That I took shelter in since I was a child.
built from broken promises and infiltrated with broken boundaries, validation, and manipulation.
In it, I was neighbors with rejection, low self esteem and acceptance . They had no regard for my space.They never knocked on the door of my place ;before flooding in my house without warning or regret.
Unwelcome visiting when least expected and staying longer than accepted . Me conditioned to confusion;I allowed it.
I allowed my neighbors of trauma to run loose in my house.
leaving trails of their mess behind for me to clean up, shattering things that belonged to me without plans to reimburse my property.cornered in my own castle I sat quietly ignoring my boundaries
But
I’ve moved on .
Im living comfortably in my mansion on a hill.
I’ve learned what I willing to deal – with .
So if you looking for me good luck
I’ve taken up residence in this gated community .Im living good . I’m served and protected by my boundaries
They don’t grant unverified access to me they stop unwarranted
interruption of my peace
They stand on what they say
My boundaries .. they stay strapped like top flight security
They stand on guard ready to lay down their life to protect my mental
They don’t accept the bare minimum
They require my access code formulated of actions and not empty promises , change not manipulation, standards and not un communicated expectations , accountability not excuses .
POV
I’ve changed the residence of my boundaries and the number to my standards
I no longer live at that place where you last saw me.
This is a super creative piece! I love the metaphors you use to paint your story. Instead of just saying you’re done, you described something the reader could tangibly grasp, like a new house and a new number. Congratulations on your devotion to your new boundaries. You’re right, an apology without change IS manipulation, and I’m proud to see a…read more
Dear younger me,
We are still here.
Through the crazy moments , laughs and tears.
I’m so proud of you for working on your self year after year .
It wasn’t easy to stay in your lane;
especially, as you sat back in tears
While watching everyone else adjusting their gears
They moved flawlessly ,.able to Maneuver onto the express way.
You- wishfully watching as they shoot past you like a shorting star.
Frozen but wishing and “God, i wish I could just be where they are. “
“But I’m driving a hand me down car ..
with – hand me down scars”
With dreams and aspirations as grand as the stars,
but as scattered and oblique as they are
they lay
Huge hope with little wisdom
Trying to follow pre meditated foot steps,
but somewhere along the way you got lost.
Seeing your friends and classmates leave you in the dust of their exhaust.
Exhausted!
Exhausted because you’re crippled from the feeling as if you would never get that far.
Never quite meeting the bar – of your parents expectations
Searching every map for your final destination
but, no landmark ever felt like home.
Trying to figure out ,HOW the hell does these roads work? when you had no one to trail behind
But if you would’ve known then what you know now ,things might’ve been easier
but we are here now .
You push past the doubt and adjusted your crown.
Learned that you are your own trail blazer
And how to spark your own light.
You learn how to jump over the hurdles,
even if it took you a couple of times to get the jumps just right.
Learning
Learning to leave every non beneficial thing behind.
Focused on your self.
Other things , Out of sight out of mind.
No longer holding on to baggage that’s not assigned to you.
You’re moving on, straight ahead.
Not accepting the doubt in your head or what other people have said.
Because you know;
You know, the windshield in front of you gives you a better view than the window that trails behind you.
Dear younger me
I’m sorry
Im Sorry I wasn’t patient with you.
Sorry for trying to harvest your potential before it’s reaping season
I was so desperate to find out your purpose of your reason.
Planting seeds in the ground without tilling your soil.
Allowing room for weeds and infestations to stunt your growth.
Never replenishing what I dug out .
Pushing you past your breaking point;
But blaming you for not holding it together.
But you held it!
Strong as a camel;
But only until that last feather.
I’m sorry for pushing you when you said you were exhausted and tired;
because I was chasing future me desires.
I broke you down with no plan on how to build it back up .
Because of that
We spent years being stuck .
But some where along the way we got tired of being tired.
Tired of lacking fulfillment but full of desires.
No action to complete our faith,
but tired of looking failure in the face.
Something had to change!
Somehow,
we push past the doubt and adjusted our crown.
So resilient, our presence is heard without us making a sound.
That pain we suffered has no compare to that joy that we feel now.
This ain’t the end of our story but just the climax.
Now we waiting to see what generational curse we aiming at to break next.
I love how you constantly circled back to the car metaphor! It really makes your piece interesting and relatable. You’re a very good writer and your creativity shines in this piece! Thank you for sharing 🙂