CRY Magazine
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CRY Magazine

My apartment leasing office. Every season, it’s appropriately themed, and this one . . . made me smile. I figured I’d share it with you. Photo Credit: Tremaine L. Loadholt

On: Loving What I Create

A free verse poem

it wasn’t a when it was a where . . .
I moved hundreds of miles away
from my home state and fell in
love with rolling hills, vast mountains,
and four seasons.
I knew I had several lives within me — dwelling
in comfort and begging to be set free.

before this change, I could write.
I could tell tales, weave poetry, and
set into motion articles of any kind,
but this change . . . changed me.
I won’t tell you my struggles
disappeared, no — instead, they further
shaped me and lifted me to a place
I needed for comfort.

I had to get away from where I
was to get to where I am.
I’ll repeat . . .
I had to get away from where I
was to get to where I am.
I had become a shell of myself,
cracked on every edge, yearning
to be seen by anyone who would
widen their eyes in my direction.

I wrote my way out of traps I
placed for myself — wrote my way
out of arguments with my baby brother
over our (at the time) drug addict of
a mother — wrote my way out of
cells built for my kind . . . I learned to
push my anger into the deepest pit
of my belly and create . . .
I learned to pull myself out of
the pits of hell and create.

I began to love this gift.
away from you — where I could
grow — away from all of you — where
I could stretch myself up and out.
I am touching the clouds now.
I am breathing clean air now.
I am comfortable in my skin now

this jungle of a world sinks its
teeth in, one by one, and I have
had to run away from the bite marks
pressed into my flesh.
I wear layers, always prepared for
winter even when it’s seasons away.
God has been kind to me, overall — I’m
still able to cut a finger or two
and bleed willingly.

I am giving my gift to thousands.

I pray I’m changing someone
and even if I’m not — I’ve changed.
I’ve changed.

I’ve changed.

and I love it.

©2021 Tremaine L. Loadholt



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Tre L. Loadholt

Tre L. Loadholt

I am more than breath & bones. I am nectar in waiting. “You write like a jagged, beautiful dream.” ©Martha Manning •