Monday, August 15, 2016

Future

Creep slowly or he'll hear you
your heart as it is thudding
Your blood rushes so hard
in your ears it sounds like flooding
Your skin so tight and anxious
that the air seems it could burn it
The front door handle looms
but there's too much fear to turn it
You think you hear approaching steps
certain he is lurking
The sounds that pour from quiet
leave you swiveling and jerking
Your stomach is a gymnast
your knees feel weak as straw
You grab the handle tightly
like the clenching of your jaw
You ease the door to open
and run forth toward your future
You may still hold the scars
but there will be no more sutures

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