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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Women's · #1917672
Word: atavistic - 19 lines
Terror congeals out of the darkness,
as a distant howl
sends chills up my spine;
there is no guard fire
at the entrence
of my suburban cave
to protect me
from the predators
of this concrete jungle.

What part of my brain
still remembers
a cavewoman's fear
of the dark?

When the electricity
goes out at night
my atavistic disposition emerges
and I tremble
until the lights come on
or I find the flashlight.


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