I tiptoe past her door

Careful not to disturb

Warning signs scream at me

NO Trespassing!

Enter at own risk!


She smoulders

Like a cigarette butt tossed on the ground

Radiates heat

Waits to ignite

All that’s needed

Is the right fuel source.

Flopped on her futon

One leg flung over the wooden arm

Bored, she stares malevolently

At the television screen

The whole world

Concentrated in one benign picture tube

And reflected back at her

Anger reigns her pre-pubescent world

Around her

Electric lime walls shout

Look at me!

Pop star posters shimmer

Fluffy blue slippers sprout from her ankles

Arms wrap tightly around a baked bean brown monkey

Whimsical drawings in red and purple marker

Adorn her hands and arms

Stuffed pink flowers poke out from

The jumble of sheets on an unmade bed.

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