POETRY ON MEDIUM
Behind Closed Doors
A POEM
Rhode Island. Vegetables fresh out of the garden. Sgt. Pepper’s and clothes hanger guitars.
New York. Training wheels, robots and quarter collections. Milk and cookies for Santa Claus.
Friendships are broken. An angry voice answers the phone. Fear arises.
Tennis camp ends. Racing to the car mere steps ahead of the fury. We beg for our lives.
The facade fades. Flying sewing machines and hiding children. Empty gin bottles and holes in the walls.
We move on. Prized possessions are left behind. Keepsakes are scattered.
Hope outlives its usefulness. Late night banging on the door. Raised voices power through the darkness.
We run and a new life begins.
Thank you to The Scriber’s Nook.
Thank you for reading my poem. I’d love to hear your opinions.
I am a writer and an editor. I mainly edit Fiction, and I specialize in Romance. I write a little bit of everything, whatever is on my mind at the moment. My writing is greatly influenced by my past trauma, and I enjoy speaking openly and freely about my mental health diagnoses. You can follow me here.
Thank you for reading and supporting The Scriber’s Nook. We publish Monday — Friday inclusively 🖋️🌟📚






