Like old friends, they visit each night,
tracing their way towards the house as if it was their own.
THUMP, THUMP, THUMP, they say; low thuds outside her bedroom window.
The sound of crisp autumn leaves crunch beneath them.
A dreadful scent of fresh dirt and rubbery boots follows along their path.
Clenching the edges of her comforter like a child in need,
she buries herself underneath, drowning within the entrenching sea of folds. Her heart banging against her chest in attempt to escape,
she listens to the footsteps dragging heavily along the sidewalk.
CLUNK, CLUNK, CLUNK, they say.
Her ears, enveloped within numerous layers of warm cotton,
quickly try to make sense of the noise.
Listening so attentively, focusing on each subsequent step with more precision, they invite the sound to draw nearer and nearer.
The steps, in response to the attention, become increasingly rhythmic and cult-like. They return the invitation, and she obediently accepts.
A participant under hypnosis,
she removes the heavy sheets from atop her body, slowly advancing towards the window.
THUMP, THUMP, THUMP, they call.
Brushing off the dusty windowsill, spiders frantically crawling out of the dim light, the window opens.
The footsteps come to an immediate halt, leaving the night in silence and her rich, crimson lips wide open in terror.
YOU ARE READING
Loud Words from a Quiet Girl
PoesíaOriginal poems by me. Genre varies. [UPDATE: Obviously haven't been writing poetry for this.. oops. It's just here in case I decide to again. Thank you and sorry haha.]
