POEM: Spotlight

I used to hide in bushes 

waiting eagerly for the spotlight torch, 

crouched in foliage, 

sitting still and listening to footsteps, 

holding my bladder or not…

Spotlight was the old school mindfulness.

The seeking and sitting still, 

waiting and coming to terms with your

deepest and darkest self,

in the small cracks of your neighbour street.

I fought the night sky with iron fists; 

scaling fences when the neighbour’s dog came running and barking,

the driveway light turning on, 

exposing the raggedy kid in streetlights and a mouldy, 

crusty pavement.

I dodged cars like Pacman

 and slid under cars and caravans, 

rolling with the stray cats and the odd hedgehog. 

Worlds away, 

my body collected steam in the run

cooling when sitting stationary. 

I waited for a long time. 

My hiding spots were always too good,

the game would be over, 

The distant yells of ‘GOTCHA’ had expired long ago, 

defeated by too much success, 

I stood

my knees stamped

with lines and leaves, 

red &

rough.

They never tell you how lonely 

it is at the top of one’s game,

until cobalt blue and red stream past 

because it is now breaking dawn

and I am a missing person. 

Haley x