The Intruder

It was not my fault.

The window had been open,

And I just went inside.

I was hungry,

And I could smell the food inside.

She was sitting on her bed,

A laptop in front of her,

And a bowl of something sweet

By her side.

I clung to the wall

And watched her.

If I wait long enough—

I thought

—She will get up

And leave the food unguarded:

She typed furiously on the keyboard,

Then, with a scowl,

She pressed on the backspace

This went on for about fifteen minutes;

Wash, rinse, repeat.

My stomach grew hollow,

And I started to twitch

—When, suddenly, the female jumped

From her bed.

She started to yell and scream,

Cursing God and her “stupid school”,

Nearly pulling her own hair out.

I couldn’t help but chuckle,

Stupid girl.

But then she stopped,

And her fleshy ears gave a twitch.

She slowly turned her head,

Squinted her eyes,

And saw me.

She didn’t scream;

She just stared.

Then she turned around,

Picked up her still full bowl,

And walked downstairs.

My heart jumped:


I immediately followed her,

Going so fast,

That I felt wind.

Next thing I know,

I’m smashed against a wall,

My body breaking on impact,







Now, as I lay here,

Twitching and about to die,

I hear above me:

“Stupid fly.”


Like I said on hitRECord: I wrote this a few years ago, in my Creative Writing class. I can’t say that it’s my best poem, but it’s probably the best I will ever do. Poetry really isn’t my thing. Prose is really my style.


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