Untitled (Poetry)

I close my eyes
What do I see?

Only the
Surrounding me. 


A Girl In Boys Clothes (Update)

I was thinking of the next step in my current story line: A Girl In Boys Clothes. I needed to remember my room from those days, (aged 10 to 13), when I realized how spartan it was. Just white painted walls, a single window and a calendar on the wall. It was small, my single bed taking almost half of the space. Closing my eyes I can still see it, feel the Summer stuffiness of stagnate, still air, smell the emptiness of my presence there.

There was nothing there of me and not much of “him” either, as if we were just guests passing through.

It’s sad in a way, taking the time to try and sort through your memories and realizing one day you have had almost no impact on the world at all, as if you were nothing but a spirit, a ghost… maybe not even as much as they…

A Girl in Boys clothes

There were no monsters under her bed. They hung, cloaked in dark malice, within the depths of her closet. They slept, with cold intent, in the drawers of the chest beneath her window. Each waiting for the morning light when they would be brought forth and draped across her shivering, goose pimpled skin. Scrapping and itching, mockingly moving in ways she could not completely ignore.

They were not hers, not these things. They were weapons, soulless, cold and unfeeling, just as the people who folded her into their unyielding embrace. She did not fight, cry out or utter a sound for she had learned long ago silence was her only defense against the quick hand. Her heart an impenetrable fortress encased in icy fear laced too deeply with the scars of unforgivable betrayals.