Closets of Suffocation

It’s dark.

It’s cold.

And I’m alone.

It smells of bad ideas and regret.

The dust is suffocating me.

The clothes tempt me.

I want to dress up and leave.

I can’t see, but I’ve sorted the clothes.

I just need to pick an outfit.

What should I wear?

I put on outfits.

Day and night, it’s all I do.

I think I look good.

But I can’t see.

Through the cracks of the door.

I see the light.

But I also see shadows.

The shadows keep me locked.

I’m scared.

I see light.

Just a glimmer through the crack in the door.

But a glimmer isn’t enough.

I need to wait.

It’s too soon.

I’ll just take a look.

A breath of air before I’m suffocated again.

I open the door less than an inch.

The shadows attack.

I’m blinded and I fumble.

I take my torch and stick it in their faces.

The shadows retreat.

I close the door.

And I cry.

Why, why, why, why, why?

I’m in the closet.

It’s cold, and dark, and lonely.

But I’m scared to come out.

 

This poem is about: 
Me
My family

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