Peering out
Through the cracks in my haven of steel.
Tin foiled windows catch the winter sun
Shimmering like Saint Michael’s holy armor.

Smothering the wicked world from my sight
Choking out the cancerous light.

Go outside, they said.
Who said?
Was it the rats inside the walls?
Or the voices in my head?

Step outside the door of sanctuary,
Hinged between safety and destruction
Deathly pallor, pus filled sores of scarlet,
Spread like constellations against rotting flesh.

All brutally exposed now,
Naked against the pitiless sun,
Scathed by the bloodthirsty stares of passer-bys’.

Strolling,
Feet against the frozen pavement
Form a rhythm, chant a chant
Whisper up the words:

Go home
Go home
Go home
Go home

Obsidian trees
Silhouetted skeletons
Against the hellscape,
Winter barren claws
Ready to seize my throat.

Into town now.

Whispers falling from the lips of everyone
Pervade the filthy air.
Whispers about me.

Laughter penetrates my flesh like razors.

What daggers lie behind the winsome smile
Of the fair young lady or the little child?

Behind every closed door lies
A vicious plot for my demise.

A north wind howls through the street,
Singing a song:

Out to get you
Out to get you
Out to get you

For what pleasure was I to find,
Amidst December’s chills?
Curiosity beckons,
Curiosity kills.

Run, retreat, recoil, flee
Back to home’s sweet sanctuary.

Home again.

Lock the windows, lock the door
Curl upon the cold wood floor.

Listen to my heart pound
The same old mantra against my brain:

No one is safe
No one is safe
 
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