Sweeping across the room, my curtains flutter
Bursting in with the night, chasing my fears away.
Treading softly, slowly
She drifts into my room, carrying with her,
Voices passed over, thoughts passed on.
Fear soak my pillows, my hand lies limp,
By my side, bottled fears,
Some empty threats, some full of menace.
Turning she catches me,
Sliding across the room,
The tiled floor.
Comes silent laughter,
Fleeing through the buildings, caressed by the trees.
Silently teasing, bursting past the crowd.
Their voices she carries to the next,
Not knowing, the harm to be caused,
Wondering what harm could be caused.
The stones, the brickbats, those angry voices,
Pierce through her, cutting through her sides,
Startled, she rears, sudden energy, bursts forth
An angry roar, a giant flash
Oblivious, my hand still limp
By the side of my bed, fingers,
Grazing the tiled floor, bottle slipping away,
From their grasp, sorry things,
Fears are; gentle snores,
Gentle rain, splatters on the windows,
The soft breeze enters through them,
Sweeping across my room, the curtains flutter.
An itinerant whore.