Disclaimer: The poem’s mine, as always. So don’t even think about it.

Author’s Note: This is another poem (along with The English Guard) that I wrote two years ago – I just never posted it. I know it doesn’t make sense/is confusing, but then again *shrugs* I was in a weird mood when I wrote it. The best way to sum it up is that it’s a prayer/good night from a little girl’s point of view. And it’s semi autobiographical.

As dreams become real

I see things change,

it’s almost surreal.

The silence is unbearable.

It’s almost as if I was not there.

I must admit I feel a little like Miss

Congeniality.

If it’s not one thing, it’s another.

One time while my parents were busy, I

snuck out of the apartment and

did one of the stupidest things

I could ever imagine.

I betrayed my parents.

Some daughter, you’re probably thinking.

But I was stupid then.

If there was a place where

it was quiet as mice,

leaves rustled,

and birds sang only during the

night,

I’ll keep quiet. I’ll keep still.

Even if the sweet scent of lilac drifted

in the air,

I’ll never move. I’ll never notice.

Even if black was red, and red was

black

and if the smell was so enchanting

with blueberries and the sight of the

dew that sparkles and glimmers on

green.

One wish I could ever have was to cover

from the horror and reality of it all.

But there’s no such place.

That’s why I’m thanking you for being my

hiding place.

Good night, Moon

Good night, World.