Make yourself busy, pretend that I’m not there,
Despite a flickering shadow, passing 'cross the floor.
Keep thinking that the brightness will keep you safe.
A creaking floorboard, a single footstep from above,
Chills the air around your soul.
Keep pretending that the mice are playing tricks,
That it will be alright, with light.
But as the moon crosses a window,
A scratching at the glass, single tap at the door,
Hairs your neck tells a different story,
To the one your mind needs to believe.

©Nick Strong 2014