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Alex Hanna
Poems
Dec 2018
Stale Air
When I lie in the still silence of solitude
Distress breathing down my back
I see his shadow. Dare I look?
Beguiling as he is black
He looms and lingers
Sharpens his fingers
Prepared for an imminent attack
I breathe in then out
Dispose all doubt
Charade the strength I lack
As I turn to look
Face my crook
The courage in my stomach falls
Yet, nothing is there
But pale, stale air
And a mirror who hangs on the wall
Written by
Alex Hanna
31/M
(31/M)
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