Poetry passion

I can finally show my passion for writing poems. I listened to a podcast - Finding Cleo (episode 4) and delivered my feeling into this poem. I wrote late at night, and I could hear the words whispered into my ears as the chill made me fear. When I keep rereading, the words are too powerful, and I feel like I am trapped in the poem. I am the one who is saying this poem out loud to you. You will experience the imaginary-Cleo's perspective. Remember, don't skip any breath...

My poem is inspired by Finding Cleo by CBC News:

https://www.cbc.ca/radio/findingcleo/click-here-to-listen-to-missing-murdered-finding-cleo-1.4557887

December 22nd, 1978

I am free.

I meet Johnny and hug him tight,

but he walks away.

I come to Jill’s party,

dance and sing with Gina,

but she ignores.

I giggle at Jill,

compliment her jokes,

“Where did you learn that sis?”

but she doesn’t respond.

An ornament falls down from the tree,

I want to pick it up,

but I can’t touch it.

I come home,

mommy and daddy are sobbing,

I sit between them,

pat them on the shoulders,

hold their hands

They cry louder.

I go to my room

to take a tissue box.

I pass through a mirror,

How weird is it

that I don’t see my reflection.