deepundergroundpoetry.com

i call my childhood my home

i lay alone in my closet  
hiding in baby blankets  
to imitate what i miss
but cannot remember  
 
something that feels a lot like  
getting stung in the palm by a bee  
stomping so my shoes light up  
now, carbon monoxide spreads  
 
i live in a collapsing home  
where my voice no longer echos  
glassless windows; no doors  
even the rat infestation is gone  
 
voices still whispering to me  
keep quiet; keep good secrets
what is still keeping me here  
something holding me back  
 
sleeping inside my childhood  
my secret little dreamland  
simply because i cannot  
seem to finally let it go
Written by drinkingflux (mila throat)
Published | Edited 23rd May 2023
Author's Note
when night falls, who i was as a child lay beside me. the memories of my childhood are isolating, but we both take residence in what we cannot remember, and so when she comes in to fall asleep, i kiss her forehead as i hold her.
i have a book that i only write in when i am about to go to bed. in the morning, i look at the pages and turn the words into something that is more complete. i hope you enjoyed reading and perhaps this is something you can relate to.

song for this poem: babysbreath by lovesliescrushing.
edit:
Copyright © 2023 by Mila Throat.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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