Vociferate.

The details here just blow me away here as they play out in my mind so well. I think the imagination of any child is outstanding and they sometimes cannot come back to reality. We all have dreamt of a secret place wecall oour own though. No matter how big or small itis. I see this poem as a bbeautiful child-like imagination or dream. The owl tells me it could be in the middle of the night or very early morning.

We are all scared of a staircase but this girl is fearless or you make her out to be. This can be considered as an adventure or seeking what is behind this door. There is nothing but thats the beauty in adventure it's the journey that makes it worth the while. I also like how you said her desire for love. That can be interpreted in so many ways. You said she was five so I'm guessing she was read many fairytales so maybe her heart was set on finding "Prince charming". But only to find out there is disappointment i n this world. This is such a lovely poem. The vocab was excellent and the flow and connection is great.

MaryAnne, your prompts just blow me away, because you take something out of obscurity and just create these pieces that truly are magnificently penned, and this one is no exception.

First off, I admit, I had to google the title, I had heard it before, but couldn't remember what it means, but it fits well with the poem...the shouting/complaining loudly about life and all it does to drag you down.

An owl hooted belligerently
during the night, throwing me
from nothingness to the truth
that sleep doesn't exist
for the powerless.

^^By gosh, my dear...that imagery is simple yet so blooming marvellous and I so can relate, I feel so weak sometimes and when I have a lot of depressing or negative thoughts I find it tough to sleep and feel that it is my punishment for being negative...you really set the scene and I knew I was going to love this one.

I was led by my mind to the
edge of my closet's end,
where I found a small door
half my size.

^^It reminds me of Alice In Wonderland, or there's this TV program for children that we watch at work, and it's a story telling program, where the children act out a traditional story, and it always begins with them crawling through this small door into another world. Anyway, I'm rambling, but I love how you talk about being led somewhere by your mind, imagination, thoughts and feelings.

Had it been here all five years?

^^I am guessing, that the last five years have been the toughest, which is why you question, as if you know it might lead you somewhere.

Opening it up, I found a staircase,
and so I sought the steps as if
they were a shelter and not
the independent unknown.

^^We need to do this, follow things that might scare us, or worry us, find comfort in the new and not be afraid of what is coming...love this...just love it.

Down, down, down
until I was sure I was carrying
the weight of someone else's
footsteps,
and their reasons for
descending into nighttime.

^^You know that the night is hard for you, and yet when you walk down these steps, you feel someone else's weight on your shoulders, and why they feel night time is to be followed...you don't feel that it is you walking down the steps

I expected to knock my head
on lightbulbs hanging from
cracked walls,
or for my naked toes to feel
rough patches where the
carpet had been torn off.

^^Love this imagery, like you expect pain, you think that you should feel it as you descend, that life is rough so you should feel the roughness beneath you, WOW...

But everything was perfect,
perfectly empty.

^^You sound shocked that there is nothing, that you didn't feel the pain, the worry, that the emptiness is so unlike what you are used to and now expect.

Returning slowly, no voice
of my own, I let my confusion
draw me a way to end
the flawed dream.

^^I'm not sure with this stanza if what you've just spoke about is a dream, or life is the dream, that you've been living...you spoke of the perfection in the last stanza and now talk of flaws, so this part confuses me. It's been a busy day at work, so maybe it's me.

I became the quarry
of another passive night,
as I heard the same owl
hoot.

^^You know that the next night will be the same, the fear and the worry, which leads me to think that this door was a dream

And then you just threw it at me, at the end, you were sleepwalking...so while it is true, it's in your subconscious...maybe

I really loved the telling of the story and the imagery here, I felt that there was a sadness that hadn't been touched, like there were things I wanted to know...but I also like the vagueness, it makes me think.

As always, this is another fine write, with so much within to ponder upon.

Loved this!
xx

(That's one loooong comment. Whoops)

I always love titles that are unique, it just draws the reader in, intrigued by what this poem could be about. I admit, I googled what it meant, haha. :P

I really love how you took this prompt, finding the secret door, exploring and only finding out that it was empty...kind of like an empty shelf, it just feels naked without something on it.

"Her desire for love had been
sleepwalking, again."

Seriously one of the best endings I've read in a while. That hurt for her just sinks into the readers heart.

Lovely piece! <3