The buildings crumble.

They were shaking but I pretended they were still.

They were pounding but I pretended they were silent.

The pieces fell to the ground – crash after crash.

Ears covered, eyes closed, I curled up small.

I hid beneath the tall trees, stared at the rain.

Watched the clouds and prayed they would take me in.

That they would make it go away.

Block the truth.

And they did.

They hid it from my eye, my sky.

For then they hid it.


It came back - pretending is harder.

The crumbling doesn’t miss – crash after crash.

I stand in the middle of the pieces.

The trees will not shield.

The stars not reach down.

The tears shake and loudly fall.

I don’t know what to do.

So I cry and ache and wait.


I watch and stand so close but look from so far away.

And some days I don’t look at all.

Even when I should.

Because looking is painful and the pieces start to build.

The walls come up and swallow me.