Come Up

The neighborhood 
is quiet, 
all streetlights 
turned out. 

There's no
one awake, 
and no reasons 
to doubt. 

I can't stand 
the silence, 
so come up 
the stairs. 

Wear your shoes 
on the carpet, 
I don't even 

Just give me 
your hand, 
I'll let you 
take lead. 

So I can give 
what you want, 
and take what 
I need. 


There was a stranger 
in my home, 
and they hid perfectly.

Lurking and snaking
through the shadows,
amusing themselves 
with the thrill of 
going unnoticed.

They watched silently. 

Absorbing and observing 
the miniscule details,   
adding to their list 
of evidential flaws. 

And they searched intrusively. 
Prying and peering 
into the failed bits 
and miserable pieces 
of my daily life.

There was a stranger 
in my home, 
and that stranger was me.