16 reads
Hoodie
It feels like an instinct, a safe place.
Cover and cower away and pull into the dark.
No longer a human in this space.
Pick at the sleeves and at the face,
jump at the inkling of a spark.
It shifts into a home, a safe place.
This is not a race, not a race.
I cannot pull into park,
and find myself in a safe place.
If I must, I will give chase,
look away from the dark,
and find a safe place.
Pack my features in a suitcase,
nothing more than a punctuation mark.
The pauses are the safe place.
Scream and shout with a straight face,
You’ll only be shouting to the dark,
This should not be an instinct, this safe place,
for you are a human in this space.
(This poem was written during high school in April 2019).