Night crawlers invade her,
personal space becomes the enemy.
it runs like a locked and loaded dark barrelled night.
She has shot herself.
so many times, too many ......... too long is the night.
Patience sits opposite her,
she; twitches on the settee.
snakes and ladders play an ugly
no-win game in her brain, random sixshakes
and still - no
there is never that- still!
And patience waits-
silver-rubbed hipbone
stainless and a steely gaze.
some think that patience is hard,
short with no give.
no give........... she has given blood over tears,
through sweat she has bonded,
hand over fist.
But - she laid over patience's lap
and a hand rubbed her legs,
till the pain subsided.
the snakes slithered slowly
down the corridor.
out of the emergency door;
where the nightcrawlers dream to escape.
in the faded yellowbulbed 4 am prison
they both wondered why women
do what they do?
Patience and the night crawler
each alone-
each stuck in the lounge,
on a longnighthome in detox.
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