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The Road which I Lost

Poetry, Yasmine Soria


Through the road trekked time and time again

Marching forward day by day, night by night

Like the good daughter I was born to be


The ground that curls beneath my feet is sturdy and worn

From the feet that have marched before

Walking with vigor--With determination

Sweat dripping down and down from the heat of passion

Comfortable with the knowledge

This road trekked must be the right one


The ground beneath shakes, grumbles, and groans

As cracks appear in its worn surface

In a moment, the grumbling ceases

I glance down at these cracks

There is buzzing in my brain, my ears

A warning to stay, To stop

To be wary of the road ahead

But the end of this desperately long road is in sight

And so, I move


My feet pound against the cracks as it creaks and whines

Like walking on a frozen lake at the end of winter

The cracks widen with every step

Every pound of my rushing feet

To the end of the road so close to touch

Until the ground becomes akin to tissue paper

And I fall down, down, so very deep down

It reeks of the stench of decay

My stomach hot and boiling with nausea

For this is the tomb of the will

Haunted by the ghost of passion

And stained with the blood of murdered motivation

Time moves no more as Moments transform into eternity

And I cry and scream, begging for release

Because I do not want this anymore, for I did not know

This would be my forever home

And when I become comfy in the chill of the tomb


It wants me no longer

And spits me out

Like a rotten meal

Thrust back onto the same path

That was walked so steadily before

Bearing the same worn ground and the same flaming sun

But the end of the path has changed

And so, have I

The feeling of surety, of naivety is gone

Sweat no longer drips for I am cold

The feet with which I dig into the ground hold no spirit

I float slowly towards the new end

With so much apprehension

So much fear

And although I am no longer sure about the route like I was before

My legs push forward

I am trusting, hoping, begging,

the road becomes kinder to me still

And so, I move



Yasmine Essence Soria is a writer and editor based in Chicago, where she was born and raised. She is a first-generation Mexican-Honduran-American woman working to pave her own path in the world through her work and is currently pursuing her BA in Creative Writing (with a minor in Photography) at Columbia College Chicago. She writes contemporary flash fiction, short stories, and occasionally prose poetry. Her work has been published in Mystic Owl Magazine and Allium Literary Journal. As a multimedia artist, she creates both visual and written work that expresses the core aspects of her identity, while concentrating on creating worlds that belong solely to the reader. Find her on IG @yamine_essence or on her website.


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