A stalker, shunned boyfriend? Maybe... |
Written from the Dark Dreamscapes Poetry Contest's Prompt #2: "I'm nobody, who are you." Emily Dickinson However, not entered into the contest as I all ready have a poem entered for the April round. Harold's Darkside I stood for an hour, shivering and watching; She didn't know I was there. She sat watching the tele and darning stockings I savored the color and curl of her auburn hair. She stood and stretched her sedentary muscles; Turned and stuffed her things away. I stepped back with a hustle; As she stepped to look upon the bay. I crouched in a bush completely entranced; Her green eyes reflected the Moon veiled by a cloud. She tugged close the drape, forgot the lock, as by chance; I swallowed my heart, her action invited as if spoken out loud. She drifted about turning out the lights before entering her bedroom. I stood slowly, breathing shallowly, anticipation pounding; Inhaling the scent of honeysuckle bloom. A quarter hour I wait, my anxious heart abounding; Before the window I slid open slow and soft; Stepped inside, through the heavy drapes, heart beat resounding. Eyes adjust to enshrouding darkness, I tip toe 'tward a loft. There to rest by her bedroom door, under which a sliver of light leaked. In shadow I stand quiet listening; I swallow, imagination heightening, I feel myself grow Into bedclothes she must be changing I hear soft sounds of drawers open and close. Soft sqeeks of bedsprings, then the light blinks out 'neath the door. I wait panting, anticipation extreme, I bring out my knife, The bed creaks as she settles in, and I rise more for the whore. Smiling, my eyes closed, she will regret not being my wife. I wait, counting by the door, my temples pounding; Anticipation exhilarating, waiting for her soft sleeping snore. Another hour, then I open her bedroom door. The hinge squeals and she stirs. I freeze my feet frozen to the floor. She sits and stares into the dark, "Who..?" "I'm nobody, who are you." She reaches for the light, "Harold..?" I take two long steps toward her bed, And on go the lights. "Harold! What on earth! Stop playing games and come to bed." |