ArtsAutosBooksBusinessEducationEntertainmentFamilyFashionFoodGamesGenderHealthHolidaysHomeHubPagesPersonal FinancePetsPoliticsReligionSportsTechnologyTravel
  • »
  • Books, Literature, and Writing

Greyson Sweetbrook 11

Updated on May 5, 2016


I have a private place,

that no one can see unless

I try to show them.

It's behind the counter,

two ticket windows where

people come to purchase

what little I have to offer,

or much,

depending on your tastes.

I take them with me, these

ticket windows,

—when I need something too.

sometimes something

beautiful comes to the window

or I come to a beautiful thing,

and I want to show them

the four walls of my

private place.

most of it is easy--who I am

where I lived, what I do,

what kinds of things do I think

suck?, or are amazing?, or

make me happy?

those three walls are the

easiest to show.

they have framed pictures,

tacked sheets, a few shelves

with knick knacks.

but the wall called fear

is blank, because I don't know

what to put there.

once I thought I did.

I thought about all the

news clippings, the medical

test results, the uncertain job,

the car crash, the virus, the

broken relationship.

but I never put those up,

because there is a picture

of me laying in the corner

and I've caught myself

doing the mental measurements

to see where it belongs

on that blank wall

I can't tell you what's on

that wall

but I think you have a blank

wall too

--and so it's okay.


    0 of 8192 characters used
    Post Comment

    No comments yet.