Page 34 of Into the Heartless Wood
I want something more
than her voice, her power.
I want something more.
I want something mine.
I wait for him all day.
It is foolish.
He said he would not come.
But I wait.
Night swallows the sun. The stars appear, fierce and white.
I watch his house. The silver dome opens. Its strange arm pierces the dark. Its long white eye peers into the stars and I wonder:
Why does it look?
What does it see?
I wait for him.
Will he come?
My heart beats
hummingbird quick.
My eyes strain into the darkness.
He will not come.
But if he does, I must hide from him. I must not speak to him again.
I must not look
to find inside of him
a reflection of myself
that is not
wholly monstrous.
His door creaks open.
His footsteps pad across the earth.
Lightning crashes through me.
He is coming, and I must hide.
But when he comes,
when he scrambles
