December 18th

He might come with the wind
He might tap on your window
and breeze through your door
he might walk in and spill his secrets all over you
like blood
on white carpet.
He might push his lips too close to your ear
And maybe run his hand too far up your leg.
He might come in like an earthquake
And shake you up
And break you down
And shatter the perfect house that you’ve built for yourself.
And at last you’d say
“Finally, I am awake,
Finally, I am alive!”