Poetry

Suffering from Anthropophobia…


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‘Suffering from Anthropophobia…’

I close the windows and my door
Deep is my fear of discovery

It’s long past the walking hours
And I still do hear their howls

Voices and noises, their words
They rip me apart, let me bleed

Close my eyes, ears, and I sob
Pray their fangs don’t find me

When sun pours, the door opens
And in, in walk them, hoards

Of morning walkers, their eyes
Cruel, thirsty, lies sharp tipped

Words, fined to daggers, designed
To stab through my heart and kill

They suck my soul, gossip in my
Tears, cruel fingers poke & prod

The horror of vampires, or ghosts
My fear of them, long gone

Oh, but, these people who are alive
I fear them, a fear that’s bone deep

And I close my windows and doors
And pray they don’t come back…

© Ada

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