#Escape

Thye devil is in the detail

Thye devil is in the detail

They consume the dimly lit corners of your life;

hoods up.

Stares as cold as icicles, glares that pierce.

You shudder as you walk past

They sneer at you.

You wonder and ponder, often concluding

You question yourself, your being, your person

Why do they stare?

Why does it linger?

Why do they not look away?

They intimidate you,

confine you to a space; escape is impractical

You are intimidated.

You acquaint yourself with the symmetry of the paved road

You take solace in its silent, dark, stable, motionless self.

You seek acceptance in its presence

You seek liberation.

The nitrogen oxide-filled, cyanide-containing smoke escapes from the under the hood

Teeth flash, feet shuffle and the silent night is disrupted by the boom of a laugh

You miss a step, almost falling.

They shared a joke, you didn’t get it.

They stand huddled in a group

your every move brings them closer

You yearn for the sight of the pavement

You yearn to be free

The chill from the steel of the lamppost fills your senses

Its light, dim as it may be, shines brighter than the sun

A glance over your shoulder you will not risk

Your sanity depends on it.

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