Empty Warehouse Noises

It's 4AM and the cold, empty,
abandoned building I call home
won't stop making noise.
I go to sleep alone, with a loaded .380 in my hand.
There have been 4 break-ins in the past couple months.
And I don't trust the sounds I am hearing.

Sections of the roof crumble and fall throughout the night.
The rats knock over rusted tin cans.
I hear taps on the windows.
Half of the lights have stopped working,
and shadowy figures appear everywhere.
I often wake up to the sound
of the motion sensor alarms,

I cock the gun in my hand and call out to nothing.

I shout with anger.

And for a minute, the noises stop.

But that peace doesn't last.

And soon, my senses are being attacked once again. 

And I find myself laying my head on my pillow,
staring at the walls of my tent,
waiting to die.

there are no sugar plums here.