The Quiet Child
I don’t remember how young
I was when I learned how
to disappear. It was easy,
really. I just had to sit still,
keep quiet. Something I had
always been good at.
Surrounded by brothers,
two up, one down, I learned
early not to compete
for attention, for oxygen.
I quit the fight and found
a space of quiet and peace.
I walked alone in the woods,
curled up in isolated corners
to read book after book,
came to the dinner table
when called, cleaned my plate
while my mind held conversations
with myths and monsters and
imaginary friends.
2 thoughts on "The Quiet Child"
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I love this. The first stanza is a great hook.
♥️