When I was little I’d sit on dark green plush stairs the stench of sadness living in the air anybody walking by could see me, but they never did-
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I got pretty good at disappearing so good that I could eventually hide out in the open When laughter came, I knew it, but I could not be it. Enthralled in happiness seemed like a waste of time knowing I’d soon be back on those stairs.
Home was not a haven So, I sought shelter on the inside and then…I grew up And now, when the air is still, and laughter comes… I can find where someone else hides.
Much gratitude for taking time to read. Because of you, my words stay afloat. ❤MB
