WAITING TO BE BROKEN

WAITING TO BE BROKEN

The sound of a barking dog outside,
perhaps at the moon or things unseen;
My heart is racing as I look out the window
but I see only the twinkle of stars.

Haunting bits of music swirl in my head,
keep on repeating, like a broken record;
I am transported to another time, another place
and the world is cold, damp and very black.

I am chilled by the sudden quiet, no one outside;
my imagination is working overtime tonight.
I lie down, pulling the covers up around me,
willing and praying for morning to come.

The moon casts shadows across the darkened room
and creates images of death and destruction...
A thin line there is between sanity and insanity;
I hear the sound of footsteps in the hall.

I am afraid... of things unseen, and yet
there is a quiet comfort as I lie there waiting.
The door slowly opens, the footsteps draw closer
and I lie there, waiting to be broken...

Countrymom
9/3/05

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