If you tap, tap, tap

on the door, I hear

a world will appear before you

with promise of nothing to fear


yet against the rotting wood

my back, hunched

these fingers, curled


for behind, I cannot see

what truly awaits the likes of me

a craven figure cast in glass

nails clasped around broken flesh


for a single tap

I have heard anger the timid beats of my heart

a second, as the hour,

sixty I have befell


yet elusive third, beckoned only,

sought after and wished for only


I do not, I have not, I will not ever hear

2 thoughts on “Craven”

    1. I’m alright! I think! You know when days are the same and even if to someone else they might seem pretty bad to you it’s become an unhealthy habit? I think it’s like that! Hurts my heart whenever I think that I’m in Hawaii for possibly the last time, been hear near 5 weeks, and still not been able to get to the beach. That ol’ anxiety bastard is on the run again. A lot going on though. I’ll get out there, I’m sure! I think I’m more afraid of regrets than anything else.

      Liked by 1 person

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