melissaahowells
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as a child tucked into my blankets at night I'd pick the darker side of the blanket to be closest to my skin I was convinced it was much warmer more comforting than the white side and nothing could convince me otherwise the main comforter tucked between my knees and the other --the chenille bedspread pulled over my head cloaking me with only enough space for a breathing hole this was exactly how I slept each night of my early childhood years blanketing my fears of the door that sometimes opened in the middle of the night when the ray of light from the hallway slid in I became frozen in place slowing my breathing down to that of a hibernating amphibian who wouldn't rise up out of the earth until the warming breezes the zephyrs arrived and unthawed me in Spring my expertise at stillness was the hinge pin of everything my safety my silence my sleep I narcotized my thoughts numbed my mind of what lay on the other side of the creaking door like a stillborn chick I didn't make one peep as the child climbed the ceiling to be out of the way of his/her reach the silencing voice said the words of the mantra: please, don't breathe.... don't breathe. legal copyright for this poem 3/17/2021/ 12:21 Am PST AND ALSO FOR THIS POET MELISSA A. HOWELLS AND ALSO FOR THIS LEGALLY COPYRIGHTED SITE TITLE MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD RELEASING THE DEMONS OF A PAST--TO SILENCE THEM Vote for this poem |
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