the front door
unlocked
I am nightmaring, nightmaring
lost and wondering
wandering in an
endless cave of thoughts...
hisssssssss
whisper knob moves
the handle, turning
aye, eyes that can
come in, come in?
Nooooo......
Get Out!
Wake with a shout
and a fine electrified shock.
The key's in the lock
but who has been in?
And the threshold's
so cold?
The curtains moving
slightly,
unsightly testament of
a passage now old.
They came in,
(did they?)
(WHO?)...
They were bold.
I do not feel
so alone.
Look down
see pale carpet
sprinkled with earth.
(The print of a shoe?)
Copyright August 1, 2012, All Rights Reserved by this Author
Melissa A Howells Meloo from her Tilt-a-World