Whispers

I often find myself sitting and rocking on the floor

sweating in fear

my eyes focused on the door

I sit in silence so that I can clearly hear

Steps shuffling along

stopping in the hall

I know them like an old familiar song

to me they do call

Slowly they enter to check on me

they talk and smile

within the tiny cup they hold it will set me free me

I swallow they watch me for awhile

They leave

and the lock does turn

in my mind the stories of yesterdays begin to blend and weave

my eyes fill with tears that burn

Faces I have known

Memories or fiction

did I hear myself moan

Life can be such a contradiction

The whispers in the nighttime

do come calling

The whispers in the nighttime

I'm slowly drifting and falling.