A Year in my Home

A year away from prying eyes

A year becoming myself.

Through long walks around the landscape,

Through tired eyes, becoming clear,

The realisation that I have the freedom finally,

From the hand clenching my heart.

For the first time,

I’ve had the control

To be Artistic,

To Write,

To Bake,

To Walk,

To Feel,

To Love,

To be Creative.

From the Ivy weaving itself up the bannisters,

To the fairy doors on the boards.

Never have I felt so Alive

In my home

That I have

Built

For myself.