she shakes.
the slow vibrato of a voilin
suspense.
and then, silence.
Like a siren
the screams come loud
come quick.
the grips of a girl
are something to be reckoned with.
hidden in the darkness of my sweatshirt
a tension fills the air
and the film manipulates the lights
and has a method to it's scare.
clenched tighter than i've ever been
and deafened by a few short bursts of fear
of this film, scared and insane
and she just comes even closer.
and then, silence.

creak of footsteps.

nothing.

POUND on the door.

nothing.

dont turn around,
just bury yourself
and your terror
in the deep serenity
of my hoodie.

01/25/2003

Posted on 01/25/2003
Copyright © 2025 Andrew S Adams