they’re coming

she thinks

can’t be sure

so long since she’s seen light

weeks

time drips slowly down here

collecting

into lonesome puddles

she will not be saved

she thinks

the waiting will kill her first

she thinks

anticipation

the dread of uncertainty

she can’t stand it anymore

she says aloud

unlocking the inner door

she says it again

unbolting the outer door

she says it louder

opening the hatch

she screams

I can’t stand it anymore

as she is met with the smother of

darkness