tactic employed to avoid abuse. |
full bottle So familiar now are the sound of boots on the back stairs. A softer step means all is well No trouble tonight. I am only slightly hungry, it will pass. I can curl up in my less than enough blankets. I can stay awake long enough to think on impossible pleasant things And pretend like I am dreaming. I can rest before dawn with her cheery face and ice cold fingers reminds me of my duties. I hate that she prods me with that chill, Destroying anything cozy And all the while expects of me an expression of grateful cheer. I am thankful when I hear those departing footsteps. I have hours now to breathe. My hands keep busy at the tasking But my mind is trying to tell the future. If the steps are heavy I can be certain There will be trouble tonight. I will be more than slightly hungry. I will be bruised, curled up in my blankets. I will stay awake long enough and try to dodge any late night blows. Then I will almost sleep. I will not rest before dawn’s cheery face and ice cold fingers remind me of my duties. Does she prod those boots with that chill? Nothing cozy is lost. I cover my bruises and bandage my cuts and scrape any monies together And I listen for the sound of departing footsteps. I risk the brief outing They all know my purpose Very few even know my name And fewer know the color of my eyes We offer no small talk and ask no questions I have work that needs to be done I place the drink on the table A full bottle, close to the glass. Because: There may be no rest for the wicked but if I try hard enough maybe they will pass out. I have very few hours before the constant of dawn and so just want to sleep. |