Like a dark night sky,
Filled with glimmers of light,
Burdened with empty spaces between.
Or an ocean coast,
Tempted to meet the land,
A bee that floats in the summer air,
Dying from a danger,
That was never really there.
A shaking hand,
That reaches for another,
Expecting a cold touch.
Just like a newborn child,
Who cries and cries
Each different scream having a different meaning,
Each gasp of breath relaying a significant message onto any ear that can hear,
But still crying,
Because they do not know who knows what they know.
Who clamps down onto the sides of the couch,
As she scales the unchartered territory of using her legs to wander this earth,
The thrill of being able to move in ways they have seen others move,
But still not being able to release their hands,
And truly experience all there is to experience.
My friend in third grade,
Who decided to save 1 cracker from each sleeve of ritz she would have,
And hide it in her desk everyday,
Incase one day she did not have food to bring with her.
The days in middle school,
When someone tells you for the first time they think you are beautiful,
So you decide to wear your hair the same way everyday,
Dress in a similar fashion,
As to not tarnish their belief.
Where you sit with the same people,
At the same seat,
Everyday at lunch,
And talk about the same 4 things,
To not wander outside the realms of what is known to be safe
When you rack your brain for hours and hours
As to why those friends left,
If that haircut is the reason why every boy stopped seeing that beauty,
If the couch really ever helped you from getting hurt
Or did it keep you from seeing all you could see.
keep you still.
Did the fear of losing,
The fear of not knowing what could happen next,
Keep you from showing the teacher the ants by your desk
That were not from YOUR snacks,
And instead of telling the teacher the truth,
You decided to silently watch your friend hide them day after day.
And as your silence grew into a habit,
You did not protest when all those people left
Or demand the boys to stop making tents in your heart,
Only to follow the line out the door and close it as the leave.
Surrounding you in a cage of closed locks
Because just like the newborn,
I do not believe, anyone knows what I know.
I will never truly experience all there is to experience.
One day I will not have any food for the day, and I want to be able to rely on the things I left waiting.