once there was a girl who lived inside herself.
when she was 5
she was on the swings.
she had just eaten bananas and peanut butter
and finger painted at the kitchen table
and she subconsciously decided
to build her own house
and on that day
she built the first floor
and the first floor was small and stored little
only a few secrets here and there
like how she tried a cigarette
one day after school
at her best friends house.
or how when she got in a fight with her parents
she cried and cried for hours in the attic
and promised to herself that
that moment, was the worst she would ever feel.
when she was 8
she built the second floor
this floor had shaggy carpeting
for her to hide her new
growing
complex mind in.
and concrete walls
that could hold the house together.
strong.
and stable.
like she needed.
when she was 9
she built the third floor.
the whole floor was a library
filled with blank books
slowly
she began to fill the books.
and she filled the books
faster than she filled the minds of others
she loved being in her library
the deep maroon walls
soothed her soul
and the gentle silence
gave her peace
she wrote for years
in this library
on the third floor
when she was 10
she build a fourth floor
an assist to the third.
this floor was all one room.
everything was black.
the floor. the ceiling. the walls.
in the middle
there were two chairs.
comfy, big, chairs.
and a dim light, hanging low,
just over them,
painting a soft circle of light
around the perimeter of the seats.
here,
was where the girl,
would let people in.
she chose only the special
only the different
only the few.
and those who she chose,
never understood,
the significance of their placement in her life.
as much as she tried to tell them
they didn’t know, that she had a whole library below them,
that she wanted to show.
they didn’t know,
that each night, in their absence,
she would tiptoe down the tiny wooden, spiral steps,
to retrieve the next book to share.
in hopes that the two chairs,
might blend into a couch.
and day after day,
she read to them.
but she never got to finish.
they never wanted it all.
they had other rooms to sit in.
they had other houses to be apart of.
they couldn’t give the girl what she needed.
they couldn’t stay,
on her black floor.
they couldn’t make her black floor white.
when she was 13
she built a fifth floor.
this floor was rainbow.
it was packed with the material world.
the door to the floors below were locked.
she had no way of entering the past,
and no desire.
she was free of herself.
her complex mind.
she was free to be a teenager.
she did not live on this floor.
she did not live in this house.
she left.
she left for the real world.
the world of parties and friends and the busy life.
but when she returned,
in the depth of the night,
she stayed in her rainbow room,
refusing to be who she was.
who she really really was.
when she was 14
it was summertime.
it was hot outside.
she was climbing a mountain.
and even though she was surrounded by other 14 yr olds
she was alone again
pacing on her rainbow floor
trying to figure out what to do
with her crooked, abondoned, house
in much need of repair
she met the other girl.
who she quickly pulled into her rainbow room.
but the rainbow room is no place for connection.
the rainbow room does not allow books.
so in an instant
she took the sharpest metal she had
and tore down the walls
colored plaster flew everywhere,
left her head in the form of rolling tears
and she took the other girl
to her black room.
the other girl sat in the chair.
next to the girl.
and listened to her read.
and told her things that she needed to hear.
her library had a few books left.
the stairs had almost crumbled
with the number of times she had climbed
up
and
down
to empty out the hidden space
in the depths of this house of hers.
but one day.
the other girl stood up.
and walked away.
when she was 15
she crawled along her fourth floor
alone
all day and all night
her eyes kept her in her life
but her mind kept her deep inside herself
nothing could remove her house from her
and she didn’t want to leave it
it was where she was safest
hiding in the
dark
quiet
4th floor.
and when she was 16
she stayed on the fourth floor.
of the royal crowne hotel.
in grand rapids michigan.
here,
on the fourth floor,
she subconsciously built a fifth floor.
in her secret mind.
this floor was different from any other floor she had ever thought of building.
this floor was unimaginable.
this floor was unexpected.
this floor was nothing but painful.
this floor was deep blue.
this floor had rising water.
endless waves.
warm, nauseating, salt water, waves.
and with each day her body spent
in the cold hotel room
that sat next to her cousin’s warm hotel room
she realized.
everything.
and as the power of the realization
grew stronger and stronger,
the water rose higher and higher.
until it was up to her nose
and she could barely breathe.
and she had.
she HAD.
to save herself.
and it was then, when she was 16, and 15 days old,
she built her final floor.
the fifth floor.
the floor of change.
the floor of fixing, healing, saving.
the floor of warmth, the floor of comfort.
but also the floor of depression.
the floor of a journey.
the floor of pain.
but at least,
it was the floor of help.
this floor was colorless.
this floor was barren.
this floor spoke to her.
told her what she must do.
told her that it was time.
to open up her library.
to someone.
the fifth floor,
spoke to the fourth floor,
of that royal crowne hotel.
and told her,
that it was time to let the third floor seep
gently,
smoothly,
into the fourth floor.
and there was only one way.
there was only one person.
and the girl thanked god for that person.
but that person.
had other floors,
had other houses that she lived in.
that person, was just like every other person.
that person, could not help her.
and so the girl,
more broken than ever,
sat on the fifth floor.
cross legged,
staring down at the dark fourth floor
that ate all darkness
but yearned for light
and the 3rd floor
that held all of herself.
waiting to be freed.
and the 2nd floor.
that had so carefully led to the building of the library
of this unique girl.
and the 1st floor,
where at age of 5,
she had began to build this house.
this house
where she lived
secretly.
inside herself.
