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.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
