The flow of a child, ink, charcoal, graphite, paper, CKS

The flow of the sacred?

what a child did not know

I can feel my childhood just below my skin; chilling despairs of boogie men and ghosts; tales of death and cold buried beneath my coat. I never felt happy. I never felt whole.

I cried a lot; alone in my room, in the tree, in the bush. In bathrooms and closets, running, riding, empty weekend playgrounds.

Anywhere I could be alone is where I wanted to be. It was safer there; to hide in a leafy tall tree.

I cried in utter sadness. I wanted someone to care. and yet, I pushed away. Fear kept me back.

I cried in utter sadness. I wanted someone to care. and yet, I pushed away. Fear kept me back. CKS

I remember sitting on the floor; old golden yellow carpet. looking around the room. empty; blank.

I sighed within my stuffed animals; unicorns and fairy tales. I wanted out; somewhere else. But death was a horrible thought. Nowhere else but death and yet I could not imagine dying. It was terrifying.

I thought every night I would die. Grim Reaper ghost of death angels at the bottom of my bed. My sister’s angry ghost, haunting me in my dreams and dark night terrors.

I thought every night I would die. Grim Reaper ghost of death angels at the bottom of my bed. CKS

It was a horrible feeling to feel utterly alone.

It does not matter if you have a blanket, and dry roof. It does not matter; at all. Without true love everything is cold.

Everything you touch never touches back.

CKS


Read more bullshit free writing by opening Other Doors.

Other Doors

From haiku to hefty memoirs - poems, stories and essays that break through the bullshit. Looking for pieces that go far beyond cliché to uncover a new realm of possibilities. Other Doors features writing that leaves the reader with genuine congenital reactions.

Thanks to Nicholas Petrone

Crooked Little Flower

Written by

Paper echoes the vulnerability and resilience of the human soul. www.crookedlittleflower.com

Other Doors

From haiku to hefty memoirs - poems, stories and essays that break through the bullshit. Looking for pieces that go far beyond cliché to uncover a new realm of possibilities. Other Doors features writing that leaves the reader with genuine congenital reactions.

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