NaPoWriMo Day 15...Listen

This is my poetic monologue...

Listen

Both of you think you have me figured out,

waltz in here with your uniforms and guns,

your newly shined badges and puffed out chests.

I called 911, and you laugh at me.

You say to close my blinds; I already did.

You say we can’t do anything at all,

he’s doing it on his own property.

You say masturbation isn’t a crime;

I’m not a fool,

                                This is the third call.

He turns his light on at night, his upstairs

bedroom window, completely naked for

everyone in the street to see him, but

he only does it when I come home at night

or when I take the garbage out to the street.

I’m constantly afraid he’s waiting for me

In the shadows and corners of my garage

Or hiding beneath the stairs to my balcony.

A door and lock are a fragile thing,

And windows are only made of glass.

My home is made of wood, vinyl and paint

it can splinter, it can burn with me in it.

I cannot live as I once did.

                                                Now I know what fear is.

How easy he could walk in, my home, this

construct, this make believe thing called safety.

I feel unsafe in my own home and you

stand there arms crossed, a smile on your face.

Hear me and listen maybe you’ll see more

than a victim, your wife, daughter, sister,

and mother. No matter how hard you try

you cannot protect us, but you can uncross

your arms, open your ears and listen.

My voice is my only weapon.