I’m not a kid anymore.
The once hide-and-seek sweet spot
now smothers and restricts me.
With arms and legs crossed,
I might as well be wearing a straight jacket.
Hunched over in a box that smells like shoes,
the crack of the door gives me hope of daylight.
In the dimness I feel my heartbeat increase
as I imagine the door locking and the tight walls closing in.
the TV projects muffled voices of newscasters
proclaiming stories from the outside world.
Out there terrorism takes a toddler on the street.
Out there cancer steals loved ones in a blink.
Out there hurricanes threaten to wipe us off the face of the earth.
Out there hate and prejudice transform into a war that never ends.
Out there the hungry are never satisfied.
It’s actually not so bad in here.
Am I imprisoned
slowly suffocating on the smell of feet,
in my place of
from the world’s unexplainable, overwhelming problems.