as i held the bridle tightly, all i could think about was running faw away from the place that was holding me back to achieve my dream. i needed to get out of here. i had to.
ISHITA
I probably needed my own bridle when I stood behind her horse that afternoon at the barn. Why my friend didn’t steer me around to the front before her horse tried to kick me I’ll never understand. She’s half horse spirit so that might have something to do with it. I should have known. She probably thought I should have known.
Nin
I held the bridle with two firm hands and began to pull Furna to a stop. She whinnied and trampled the ground as we slowed. And when I looked up, there it was.
s
Felicity nudges her nose into me, clover still stuck on her lips. The sun is shining and the flies are not out yet. I lean into her, smelling sun-warmed horse and saddle soap.
you took the reigns.
I bit down on the bridle.
you wanted to go fast,
yet my legs remained idle.
Marissa
the bridle stuck to my face
carving my features,
changing my face.
it tightens with each thought
and turns it into prayer,
incesant and humming,
broken and rare.
i became what i ran from
as i held the bridle tightly, all i could think about was running faw away from the place that was holding me back to achieve my dream. i needed to get out of here. i had to.
I probably needed my own bridle when I stood behind her horse that afternoon at the barn. Why my friend didn’t steer me around to the front before her horse tried to kick me I’ll never understand. She’s half horse spirit so that might have something to do with it. I should have known. She probably thought I should have known.
I held the bridle with two firm hands and began to pull Furna to a stop. She whinnied and trampled the ground as we slowed. And when I looked up, there it was.
Felicity nudges her nose into me, clover still stuck on her lips. The sun is shining and the flies are not out yet. I lean into her, smelling sun-warmed horse and saddle soap.
The grip of my hands on the bridle is tight. I want it go, fast and furious. I want it to go the ay that I wanted.
I want control.
But whilst my palm is tight, I feel no rebound.
Somewhat, not everything wants to be leashed.
you took the reigns.
I bit down on the bridle.
you wanted to go fast,
yet my legs remained idle.
the bridle stuck to my face
carving my features,
changing my face.
it tightens with each thought
and turns it into prayer,
incesant and humming,
broken and rare.
i became what i ran from