Archive of Our Own ^beta

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When I step out of the house, it's dark.
Yet morning arrived hours ago,
I walk down the dark streets, watching every lamppost,
Counting the house numbers like if I memorize them it'll save me,
The dark is not a thing to be afraid of,
Yet I stand here, walking,
Afraid,
It is what Im afraid of, I'm unsure,
The possibility that it is the person that haunts my sleepless nights,
The people I missed for years upon years,
The monster under my bed that does not exist and never would,
Or the monster in the closet, that's afraid both of the closet and me,
Yet that monster isn't harmful,
I glance behind me, weary eyes blinking as there is no person there,
Not the monsters that I hide from, but my own shadow as it moves with me,
That version of me that I failed to protect,
The scariest thing of all, to my own mind,
Was myself,
A girl with her hair down, not worn up like my own,
Much shorter than the height I was today,
She looked so different, compare to the person I know now,
I never knew you could be scared of the person you once were.

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I wander the gardens,
High and tall,
Yet i dare to look over the garden wall,
The tree sleep, and but it is dark,
The flowers still bloom like he does but in the morning sky,
I followed the willow trees down the path of the garden and yet i wonder if i could hear his voice,
Thy one who dares peek through the curtains as i am picking apples in the wind,
Am i a sinner, for loving them of the same?
Possibly, i believe, yet wonder often,
I see him outside when i am sat in the library,
Laughing while sat close to such as a berry bush,
Careful as to not get pricked,
If i truly loved thy, would i do such things as to snap the rules as to be with him?
As mother said, it is a sin to love someone of the same as me,
A man, a boy, the same gender,
Yet it the spring mornings, when he is picking the bluebells from their homes on the ground,
Or in the summer afternoons, when he is harvesting apples in the sunlight,
In the autumn eves, when thy is reading a book next to the flowers beds,
Or even in the winter nights, when he shall go out his window against thine mother's will,
He is gorgeous, like a fresh apple is in summer,
Or glorious, like the petunias he picks in the spring,
He is everything i can want, yet i cannot be with such a person as him,
After all, the apples have to fall one day.

Chapter Text

hey everyone! if you see this and enjoy writing, I have a discord server!

Ages 13-18, we are a very nice community!

https://discord.gg/YpsSFwVs

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