Shrouded in the night
I stalk around the property
Looking in the window
Everyone’s asleep
Now I let myself in
Careful not to wake the baby
Easy does it up the stairs
About the Creator
Leslie Writes
Another struggling millennial. Writing is my creative outlet and stress reliever.
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The Piggy Project
I’ve had so many names in this life I lose track of which ones were ever really mine and which ones I wore because someone needed me to. Some were handed to me before I had words to refuse them, before I knew what they meant, before I knew I could say no. Most weren’t meant to hurt. That doesn’t mean they didn’t leave marks. Marks that told me who I belong to, who I am by way of who claims me, recognizes me in the good and bad, who walks beside me.
By Fatal Serendipity2 days ago in Confessions
Comments (9)
I can't decide if this is an intruder or something more like a teenager trying to sneak back in after curfew, and the fact that I'm unsure is eerie in and of itself. Great work!
Is it a burglar 😬
I'm not sure why I feel this about this seemingly simple poem but it seems to be shrouded in mystery. I will have to come back to this one and think about it for a while. Great work as always, Leslie.
Oooo, is he a robber or a serial killer or a rapist or all three? I love how you left it to our imagination!
Sounds very familiar...
Ooooh, mysterious. Nefarious interloper or mum out late!
Aaaiiiyyy! This is chilling! Creative and creepy take on the challenge.
Loved it!!!❤️❤️💕
Such an eerie bit of poetry.