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My Crime

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I'm wanted for a crime,
a crime I did commit,
but I'm hiding in a hole
'cause I'm scared of what I've done
and I know that I'll be caught,
but still I chose to run.

Now I'm straining to listen
for the footsteps I know
will be yours, and I'm afraid,
of you reaction, your face (peering into mine).
Thoughts of you finding me
quicken my heart's already
fast pace, pumping my fear
throughout my body, panic
sets in, and I know I've been found
because I'm gasping for air,
and the silence of the night
has become a megaphone
for my gasping breaths, crack, a twig,
snap, a branch, I know it's you
'cause you don't even hesitate
as you approach my hiding hole
futile as it is, I fall quiet.
My heart's still pounding,
my breath is only a whisper,
as I wait for you to fine me.
I wonder, do you recognize where I have hidden?
It was your favorite spot,
when we were children, friends even,
So when you grasp my shaking arm
and tell me that you know my crime,
I merely nod and ask:
What happens next?



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