My Room

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A place
That keeps hidden
The darkest secrets.
It’s darker than a burden.
A place
That I keep myself
Calm neat and fierce
I learn
Who I really am
In this place.
No one knows,
Except myself,
Why I can be trapped
In that place
For very long periods of time.
It’s the place
I can ponder about my life,
How everything has happened
For its reasons.
A knock sound appears,
I yell, “Com in”
The door squeals open,
It’s my stepmom.


“You need light in here,
It’s such a beautiful day
Out,” she says.
“Ah, I’m okay
It’s just fine in here,”
I answer.
She comes near me,
“What are you
Working on?” She questions.
“Writing my thoughts
And emotions down,
And typing them up” I murmur.
She picks one up,
Skims it,
“Very intense
You’re a natural,

YET
There are some
Grammatical errors.” She requests.
I roll my eyes
As if I’m in denial.
I stop clicking away
At the keyboard
And look around.
She looks like
She’s pondering, but
I don’t care,
Then she asks,
“Why do you have this in here?”
“I love the smell
Of it,” I answer smiling.
The best hunting trips
I’ve ever been on,
Helped my dad gut it,
And now I sleep
With its hide.
She smiles eagerly
And tells me,
“It’s time to eat.”
I nod in despair
And sit back on my
Chair

And
Start typing again
To finish my work.
I get up to go upstairs,
I look back
Before I shut my burden
And smile
Because
I only know
The real emotions

Inside.





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