“I remember. I remember
laying awake at night.
Waiting for you.”
I remember. I remember laying awake at night, watching my door. Listening for the low roar of the garage door. The scent of barely-cooked steak wafting up to my room. It was all a prelude to you ascending those stairs and turning the opposite direction down the hall. That’s when I know my time is up. My only question — in the unknown — was how much pain I would endure and how long my torture would last.
© Sarah Doughty
Long after you’re gone,
I’m still in that perpetual darkness,
wondering when my torment will end.
This was written for day eighteen
of November Notes.
Recreational by Aaron Krause