Description: An attempt to share the suffocating, nauseating feeling a child gets when parents fight behind closed doors - well, in this case, just on the other side of the wall.
White Wall -------------------------------------------
There’s another side to this wall
From where you sit safe and quiet
Shhh…
Don’t imagine what’s
On the other side
Where there could be-
-Don’t!
Sit silent and stare at the crisp white
Paint
Masking a map of scars and
Splinters.
Close your eyes now
As the walls surrounding you
Get thinner
And voices outside echo louder
Though the walls cram you in
And air depart from your lungs
Don’t stand up.
Hunker down
And inhale the mildew that’s on the floor.
Don’t think of listening
Awaken your senses but let your heart
Beware of feeling
Because there’s another side
To this wall
Where your own blood could be-
Shhh…
Someone’s at the door.
I liked this. In a poem where the feelings and emotions behind are extremely sincere, you created a cool theme in which to display it. I missed your poetry :)
"Shh...someone's at the door." - This line still has me wondering though. To Azura's credit it sounds like that may be what you were trying to show. I don't think so though. For me it feels as if you must keep moving on. YOu have to hide the fact you were attentive to the argument for fear of getting involved. I've been in this situation also, where the lovely walls seem ultra-permeable by the voice of parents.
"Hunker down
And inhale the mildew that’s on the floor."
Haha...I did this. Literally. Only I hope there wasn't mildew. My sister and I used to hide under our bunk bed when my parents fought.
Great imagery, especially "The white wall." i think we've all stared at it sometime in our lives.
But hey, know that even when these situations ensue, you can call me :)
As a parent with at least one child about your age and one right behind (who'd both love your illustration) at least I can claim that whatever bickering we have is done in the open and is usually shortlived even if some of the causes are not. Most relationships in any real time situation will have some rough spots from time to time.
I think our children can at least appreciate that we seem to get over any "disagreements" quickly and still have unconditional love for each other and certainly for the kids. I can only hope they can do as well someday.
Blood is shed only in the process of my donating a pint of it to others on a regular basis (type AB+). The T-shirts and mugs are a bonus! If you worry about a parent, at your age it might prove beneficial to convince at least one parent that it would be helpful for you to remain as an eye (as well as ear) witness.
Any truly abusive situation that cannot be rectified must be abandoned because it otherwise amounts to a mental illness of both parties when one is quite enough. At some point abuse may become criminal which calls for iron bars, but if recognized as a mental illness early enough, then perhaps another "White Wall" might serve such a situation well although I hear they sometimes use pink walls now.
Ooooo, ok you got me at the end. Blew my mind, I had to say. Usually I read poetry slow, so I can take in the imagery and the emotion that the writer has intended to impute in, but I won't lie, I read this rather quickly. I wanted to find out what happened, and now my head is full of theories from bad things, to good things, to somewhat neutral. I feel as if it's someone hiding withing her room because there is wither fighting outside, and she would rather stay inside her room, where it's safe, but she can hear anything. And then someone knocks on the door, to assure her that everything is ok, and that she can come out now. The ending was great though, I like your still. Thanks for this.
Be well,
~Azura*
Ooooh suspense! It could be very literal yet very symbolic; I like those sorts of poems. Very much...
"Shhh…
Someone’s at the door."
hee hee. In my opinion, the poem takes a different turn of events at these lines but then... the poem ends! ahhh! Mystery! What happens next? You definitely leave us wondering what...
I've done this before, when I'm in my room, I sometimes put my ear to the ground to hear what people are saying downstairs. It rarely works well; I end up hearing bits and pieces of things that don't seem to make any sense together.
Submission Name: White Wall
