hostileMature

A series of unrelated poems, not exactly a collection, just some random musings

The lights are on
and I am home,
unfortunately.

There's a
            rap tap
            knock knock:
someone.

Outside shines night
and birds sing silence.
The moment grows
and I cower.

Anger fills
            and fuels the house.
It chants a demon
and arouses the fire.

Violence dribbles
like an erupting volcano.

Children don't fear like adults.
We have less                 to fear;
but ours is double concentrated.

There's a
            smick smack
            crick crack:
was someone.

The lights are on
but I'm not home,
hopefully.

The End

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