Riley Strader 7, 19

Familiar Riley Strader

I was skipping down streets that are familiar to me I analyzed the structure of the houses And made up a song to the wind chimes blowing The jangling sounded like a nursery rhyme Ones that my mom used to sing to me I knew every slight turn even with my eyes closed Every bump in the sidewalk I could map out my whole town without hesitation As a nine year old, this was one of my biggest accomplishments The bar is set low when you don’t have much experience I notice that every house has a story And I knew most of them One morning I was told that the most vivid blue house in town That I see almost everyday Used to be home to a seemingly happy family But inside those walls a suicide took place I can still see through the windows when I drive by I get a glimpse at their kitchen And whenever I do I wonder what’s like to want an end To truly want to die I wish I could remain as naive before I had these thoughts But they were always deep inside of me I used to think “How could such a bright house actually be so dark?” The paint on the blue house was chipping The weeds were unkempt The front porch was caving in And the steps were rotting, with fungus suffocating it I eventually passed a yellow house with brown trim