The three masked men stripped me of my innocence the same way they stripped my house of everything that we valued.
In one night my humble abode became a battle zone and the only armor I was equipped with was a blanket.
That night I learned that there weren't any monsters under my bed but instead there were monsters outside in my "peaceful" world.
Monsters were my neighbors,
My classmates,
The grocery store cashier,
My friends.
Monsters were the people I depended on.
So often I wish and long to go back to that house.
I think somewhere between the bullet casings on the kitchen table and the blood stained picture mugs is where I lost my stardust.
Maybe if I tear down all the wallpaper I'll find a little girl with big brown eyes and curly brown hair who had no worries about the world.
I was too young
I didn't deserve that nightmare.
There were still lullabies to be sung and second grade drawings to be hung on my now blood splattered refrigerator.
low violin hums and flute chimes
I didn't even get to reach age nine
before I was woken up by thuds and gun shots
helicopter lights circled around my small block
police sirens, my mothers wails and it was over before I even realized it began.
Maybe if I check in the empty safe that my dad was forced to open with panicked fingers or in the cotton of stolen hundred dollar bucks
then maybe,
just maybe I'll find my stardust.
Only now am I realizing that I've never seen my dad cry.
He has to be weeping on the inside because my current house is equipped with an alarm system and cameras on every end.
I guess I didn't lose my stardust.
No matter if I go back and search between the fingertips of my mothers shaky hands or if I check down the barrel of the bad mans gun
I will never find it because it was stolen from me.
And whisked away along with my hopes and dreams.
