A pounding in my ears produces a rhythm and is the evidence of life,
A sound only I could hear like all my inner thoughts and strife.

I watch from behind a window as the world keeps going,
Isolating myself in a little cabin full of my own little stories.

The cabin is warm and cozy like the sun feels during winter,
A comforting ray of warmth to sooth the cold or anything bitter.

A safe zone for all my cries,
All my hidden emotions that prevent clear blue skies.

I’ve always loved the rain, or maybe I just got used to it,
The gloomy grey feeling of peace envelopes my cabin, all the bookshelves moonlit.

I reach up to grab a book I’d written,
Using my own experiences and fantasies that would overtake my vision.

Gently tracing my hand down the cover,
I walk over to the soft cushions to read so my memories recover.

I lay for hours reading through my narrative,
I no longer want to forget, instead I want to smile since my past is imperative.

Being ashamed for being young should not be inherited,
We’re all still learning and it’s in our nature to be sensitive.
© Grinchy