stik13

locked doors and keypads guard me

inconsistent bright lights shine as

my smile flickers off

a low hum the only thing heard

over distant shouts and the tapping of feet

getting closer

and closer. . .

and then they are here

harsh commands being thrown back and forth

as well as guns and ammunition

loud boots drowning out my thoughts

devils in white coats follow them

syringes and needles tucked safely away

so no one else can praise them

clipboards and notepads

trapped in their arms

pens scratching out words no one will read

the swift click of a loaded gun

and a shot

one has been found, not quiet enough to

hide in these walls

watching

waiting