Man from the couch
Looking for me
Shrinking my presence
Wishing I could flee

No place to hide
Hearing his footsteps
Looking for pleasure
In the form of ***

There’s a horrible monster
Outside my door
Always circling
Coming back for more

A haunting game
Of procrastination
Every slight noise probes
My ears with vibration

Peeking out the
Side of my eye
As the doorknob turns slowly
Inching open - I die

His mouth opens wider
Releasing shadows of fear
Dripping his venom
Whispers I barely hear

My littlest brother asleep
On the top bunk.
This man has no shame
As he shows me his junk.

I inquire after my mother
He's roaming towards me.
He murmurs his shhh!
"We can not wake her."

My head is spinning
As he denies my plea
He's just come to expect
He can steal this from me

The smell of burnt plastic
Wanders around him
I'm feeling cryptic
As my light starts to dim

He lies heavy on top
Of my tiny frame
It's become automatic
Like writing my name

Clumps in my throat
Prevent me from gulping
I can’t seem to inhale
His body hammering

I close my eyes so I can sail
Back to my unconscious
Disconnecting this moment
In my black empty space

© Jl 2016
© Pixievic 2016