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...
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