Turned from benevolent
Characters on a wall to
Darkness.
Shadows were smiling and jovial.
Laughing dancers
Singing in the ears of my childhood
Existence.
Shadows were puppets,
Intricate contraptions of
Fingers and hands.
They used to skip across my walls with
Hearts of gleaming, glimmering golden
Glow.
Until they weren’t.
Lurking
Creatures of the night.
Stark and sinister tenseness,
Waiting. They carve away the luster
To make room for their
Boundless selves.
Shredding light with wispy
Talons.
Vicious,
Malevolent beings.
Funny to think
We used to be
Friends.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Julia Dun Rappaport is fourteen years old; she lives in Boston, Massachusetts. Julia spends most of her time sketching, writing poems, and lint-rolling the fur of her two dogs off of her clothes. She is inspired by the work of Ada Limón and Sandra Cisneros, and her work has been published in nine publications.