the paintings on the wall have heard it all;
every sob,
every strain,
every silent scream.
as the dim moonlight peeked through my blinds,
my paintings were the only ears i had to witness
every ******,
every pant,
every tear.
a demonstration of an invasion within
my numb body.
unable to say yes or
no.
my cottage was robbed,
because i thought it was safe
to slip into a sweet slumber
with the door unlocked.