The house is always darker inside than out
Walls built to shelter inhabitants from harm
Subsequently, unfortunately, sheltered them from light
Even windows fail to resurrect life nor do the sun justice
Outside is heard sounds of children, workers, vendors, mothers, and fathers
All interacting in a melting pot called neighborhood
And though inside composed of the same elements, it’s quiet
Only doing what they’re supposed to
Without effort to exceed the expected
Coming out of each individual shadow only for food and water
And the occasional trinkets acquired in exchange
For hard-earned money brings along fleeting moments of joy
Curtains obstruct sunlight’s reflection,
Making them believe outside is their inside eyes’ perceptions
But the sounds tell a different story
So they tune them out, declared as pollution
Grumbling and shaming those who engage in fundamental human interaction
High ceilings couldn’t help those suffocating
Nor could the length and width help those feeling trapped
The house is always darker inside than out
Livia Kriwangko is a Chinese-Indonesian Psychology major, amateur podcaster (@ChindoTeaPod) and aspiring writer (@le.papillon.bleu). She is rediscovering her love for the written word by exploring her unique upbringing and passions.
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