Hide and Seek

Her tears stream through the phone
Silent sobbing
A desperate, voiceless cry
Inaudible to all but the initiated.
Please, they scream without a sound,
Listen to me,
Seek me out
Inside this darkened prism
Of my lonely head.

Hidden away behind closed shades
Tucked neatly in the corner
Of the dingy, one-story
Motel room
Where she has secreted herself away
Peeking out the darkened windows
Eyes flashing with fear
And hope
As headlights pass her by.

Dried blood on her arm
From the uncleaned
Unclotted wound
She refuses to let heal.
I’d rather let it rot, she says to herself,
Than let my guard down.
She trusts no one
Not even herself.
Especially not herself.

Footsteps outside
Come to an uncertain stop
At the room with one digit missing
From its number.
He’d had to count doors
From the lobby.
Her call had given him
Precious little information
Save for the desperation in her silence.

She was careless, though,
Calling from the room phone.
Intentional? Maybe.
He knocks. And waits.
No response.
Maybe he was wrong.
He turns halfheartedly to walk away
And the slightest of clicks tells him
She’s cracked her door – and defenses - to him.

Slowly, he turns
And steps inside.