Poetry in the Park: Out with the old, in with the new.

7/16/25

I participated in a poetry writing class…our prompt was “Out with the Old, In with the New”

The New Me

My life as I knew it
for the last sixteen years
is on the precipice of major change.
Out with the old, in with the new
seems very fitting.

The old wasn’t bad,
it just wasn’t enough.
It lacked emotion, connection,
meaning, feeling, passion.

The old was comfortable.
But it was empty.

I know what it is
to truly feel—
to travel from the lowest lows,
then soar to true happiness,
the kind of high
only purpose can create.

My son gave me that.
With his death,
I died too—
the part of me that thought
living in the gray would suffice.

No.
I would not accept
unfulfilling love.
I deserve it all.
I won’t waste this chance—
this chance to feel,
to create,
to LIVE.

The old was filled with love,
but it was shallow,
when complexity and challenge
crossed its path.
It didn’t understand me,
didn’t match me,
didn’t move with me
through the ever-changing emotions
of a bereaved mother
clawing at anything
to stay present,
to stay alive,
to find purpose
in her grief,
in her loss.

The old was protective—
but not of me.
Of self.
Always keeping checks and balances,
always self-preserving.

The old alienated me
when I needed connection—
deep, meaningful,
raw connection.

The old was just okay.
And I will not accept just okay.

I am new.
The woman I became
after my car was struck—
she is not who I was before.
She felt pain
like no other.
She lost her child,
her baby,
her son.

I was reborn.
A new version of me
trying to figure out
why this event
was planned
for me.

Why me?

This new woman rose
from the darkness
of a wounded soul,
always searching for light.
And sometimes—
she finds it.

My old love is new, too.
It has changed, evolved—
not into passionate fire,
not soul connection—
but something steady.
Familiarity.
Understanding.
Consistency.

My old love is no longer
a wet blanket—
but a warm one.
It surrounds me
when I need it,
and rests quietly
on the shelf
when I don’t.

It’s beautiful now.
A place of calm
in the storm
of this new landscape
laid out before me.

The old still shows up, but has moved aside for the new.

To feel true happiness—
to embrace
and enjoy the light—
it’s a feeling
hard to describe.

It is still.
It is pure.
It is a warmth from inside
that feels placed
by divinity.

This is new.
But I had to move through the old.
Feel the pain.
Dissect it.
Cry.
Laugh.
Sit with the
uncomfortably painful emotions.

The new me is hopeful.
Scared.
Full of love
to share with the world.

I am proud of you,
new me.