Blankly staring into space.

Surrounded by smiling faces, light hearts.

They don't understand my burden and if I told them they wouldn't know how to handle it.

So I laugh and smile.

Some of the joy genuine but most of it a mask.

Stepping out into the summery musk.

Dusk falls upon this crowded town.

I can see how someone might go crazy in New York.

The overwhelming feeling that I know that I can't go anywhere to be fully alone is haunting.

That I'm one out of a million daunting.

I've gone back in time today.

Seen the flashbacks, the good and the bad.

I don't stop them because they are my punishment.

I know I am to blame for some of this mess.

Guilt rolls in my head.

So I go back in time.

To two-thousand four.

I was eight years old. 

We had just moved into a new house, no carpeting.

This is when we were still happy and my parents still loved.

When my heart was pure and innocent.

We put our handprints on the floor along with our names and the date.

Dad said we wouldn't see it again unless we had the floor re-carpeted.

Failure is never in one's mind at the beginning.

Tears well in my mind as I see them again.

Except this isn't my house anymore.

This isn't my yard.

Nothing of this is mine.

Except the small hand shadow on the wooden floor.

And the guilt that follows.

I say I'm fine.

I'm not going to cry.

It doesn't bring up bad memories.


I just shake my head and smile.

But now I'm alone with these thoughts and the muggy night air.

Light hair blowing gently in the breeze, my blue eyes filled with tears.

I hate it when I cry.

My face becomes red and I and shedding my mask unwillingly.

When will healing come?

When will my deliverance come? 

What shall I do to obtain this healing?

What can I do? 

The End

64 comments about this poem Feed