Liked me / I was heading to work one night, and / I never work at night / she was leaning against the entrance / her eyes / just staring / I glanced back as she / came up to me / with a friendly smile, / a polite greeting, / as her feet found their way / to me.
And when she got close / she suddenly reached out / slamming me against the gate / of the other store / squeezing the air out of me / like a balloon / and I wanted to ask why / but she kept on holding my throat in her / angry hand / until I had no voice left.
"What does it mean?" I ask her, / that lovely lady who never uses, / a pad and pencil, / like the rest of them / "what do you think it means?" / her eyes give me / that same stare / because she knows / that I knew / whose hand it was / when my eyes opened / and I was still gasping / for myself.
YOU ARE READING
Black Silence
PoetryThis is a world of dreams. Each poem, except for the first and last, depicts a dream that I have had. This is a battle of four years of emotional abuse, anxiety, and the steep but slow route to recovery. This is my world. Credit for the cover goes t...
