The Spaces We Keep
They nod at the store, they wave on the street,
Call you by name, say, Isn’t life sweet?
They know your car, your front porch light,
Who you were in high school, who’s wrong and who’s right.
But doors close softly when the night settles in,
And walls hold whispers no neighbor gets in.
Curtains drawn tight like a secret we keep,
A world of our own where the hidden runs deep.
A bedroom of books that no one has read,
Letters half-written, words left unsaid.
A song in the dark that no one can hear,
A dream left behind, a lingering fear.
A picture face-down on a cluttered nightstand,
A necklace untouched, a note in my hand.
The jacket still hanging from years long ago,
A poem unfinished—no one will know.
They see me in daylight, a shadow, a shape,
A name they remember, a life they mistake.
They don’t hear the songs I hum in the dark,
Or see all the scars hidden under my heart.
And yet, I pass strangers and do just the same—
Assign them a story, forget their real name.
How many are hidden in rooms just like mine,
With lives left unspoken and hearts misdefined?
If I stepped inside, if they opened their door,
Would I see the truth they don’t show anymore?
Would they be like me, just waiting to find
Someone who sees past the walls in their mind?
We’re more than the glimpses, more than we seem,
More than the echoes of small-town routines.
We are the spaces we never reveal,
The weight of the ghosts, the things that we feel.
And maybe, just maybe, if someone could see,
The secrets I keep wouldn’t just belong to me.
"The Spaces We Keep" is a poem about the hidden parts of ourselves—the dreams, fears, and secrets we guard behind closed doors. It explores the tension between how others see us and who we truly are, asking whether we’ll ever find someone who sees past the surface. I wrote this to honor the quiet, unspoken layers of our lives and to remind us that we’re all more than the stories others tell about us. It’s an invitation to look deeper, both at others and at ourselves.
