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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Dark · #2191119
i was a child who had to get good at hiding
A safehaven found in the very centre of the chaos.
It was once a place of secrets to be found,
the only hidden things
were the spices waiting in the back.
I used to sit here not seeking refuge,
but fun.
For my fun consisted of reorganizing jars of jam
and alphabetizing the spice rack.
But,
when I turned three the comprehension set in.
Then,
it was I who was hidden in the cupboard,
not the clove and thyme.
It was where I sat as the storm raged on,
as the words grew venomous
and I waited for a slammed door
to signal my safety.
It was where I hid the cigarettes
because I'd never been one to wait for a miracle.
That was the last time I intervened.
But,
I soon outgrew the cupboard.
Now,
I am here
Among the bright lights and the foreign powders -
searching for a new safehaven
in all the wrong places.
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