I will admit that I hide under the cover,
smothered by fear,
waking up in a planet of men in masks
who all stand and stare at me.
These vampires surface in my dreams,
hungry for my blood, sweat and tears,
gathering around my mattress on the floor
as I try to remain curled up tight in the foetal.
(I feel the past vastly grab the ground
from beneath my trembling feet.)
Their masks go on, as one at a time
they land unwanted kisses upon my lips
and I've to play along with their game of Guess Who,
each wrong answer resulting
in another punishment added to my pile.
They must have made me drink their poison,
as I try to recognise if this place is the Devil's House,
but its too cloudy to see -
another unfair disadvantage to me.
Suddenly my doubts are answered
as the chanting begins and a chorus of men's voices
tell me that God is now angry.
My heart races as the chanting gets louder,
asking if I can feel God's anger,
installing ear through my nerves
as their fists begin thumping the mattress I lay on.
So many people in masks,
so many voices,
yet no one tries to help me,
and this is only the beginning of their evening,
only round one of my warm up to what's in store.
This is the reason I can never sleep,
when waking up with this vision
leaves me with questions of doubts,
that if they hated me that much,
