A girl sits.
Cross cross applesauce,
surroundings amiss.
In the middle of night,
there's a closet set dead.
She sits with wonder
at the edge of the bed.
There are no monsters
in the closet she once feared.
Instead of being scared,
she sits,
and peers
into the darkness.
Staring,
at the remnants of the sticky glow in the dark stars
that once reigned,
on this closet door in shame.
Taken down
mere days after their placement,
the specks and the flicks,
and the sunlight they'd rent,
was now gone.
Though the specks stayed.
And the girl realized
that if you stare hard enough
into the the tiny galaxy not more that two feet away,
you could drown out the cars,
on the main street down the way.
She could block out the loud music, from the people outside.
The occasional shouting, she heard through the night.
You could sit, and stare,
and forget
all that's out there.
And though she wished,
to explore the world,
the fear trapped her,
and kept her still.
So she sat
in her room at night.
And stared at the stars,
and wished for life
to change.
YOU ARE READING
Nobody Was Meant to See
Poetry[Trigger Warning, please be safe when reading] They aren't supposed to know. They aren't meant to read these poems that I'm writing. I've concealed them for a reason. -Shitty poems about how I feel-
