Escaping the Voices

The night has fallen, turning the sky deep purple, the color of bruises. Outside the glass door of the place I call home, the noises, and the witchy voices on the intercom, are drowned out. Some men have tried to quell my anxiety. We've gone browsing in the shoe store, the phone company, to distract me from fears. But I've come back again and again, to hardened criminals with hard hearts. I've held them to my chest, let them chew me to bits. I've gotten used to this frozen sidewalk, where I've learned to ground my feet.