Thump Thump

The sound of boots on the floor

He never knocks, just opens my door

I whisper a silent prayer

That he doesn’t know I’m there

Hope he turns back around

Then heads

down the stairs

Tap Tap

The sound of his fist against wood

Beckoning me out, he believes I should

Believes I should be at his every beck and call

Thankful I’m not where he thinks I am, at all

My clock across the room st...