The Babysitter

May 1, 2011
By Anonymous

Darkness falls upon an empty sitting room
Where the babysitter waits in shaky strokes of pen for the Parents of the children
Stillness falls upon her head.
She is beautifully alone and
Deeply afraid.
Deeply in love with a boy from school
Her heart aches to be with him
She has only just turned
On this Saturday night
Under the black of night
Fear coaxes her to write in heavy lines, through painful Premonitions she hopes are only in her mind.
She writes and fights and stares and ends with periods
Shakes, solves mysteries. Her body screams write me! Calmly She follows her thoughts down
Down the dark chute like water emptied from storm clouds.
Through the window, in overcast warm air, fire fills the evening Sky in strokes
Of a panting firecracker
Through oblivion. The spectacle ignites her eyes, her own Personal windows. Her fingers, her hair her
Right hand is vibrating like a raft through a river.
She forgets to breathe, her vision is blurring
Her blood is stirring
Trickling inside like a line of ants parading over
A picnic blanket.
The babysitter waits
Between two destinations, childhood and
Something that cannot be named.
Losing her innocence, with only
Her self to blame.
Under the eternal spell of
Creativity that poets call love.

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