Scimitar Justice

You are the tall man
standing behind me
in the mirror
while I brush my daughter’s hair.
You are the visitor behind
every ring of the doorbell
while I shrink in the shadow
of the window peering out.
You are the escape artist
waiting to rush in
while I try to shut the
garage door behind me.
You are the one with your
hands on my throat
while I choke and sputter myself awake.
You are the “F” in my fright
a fool
a farce
a freak show
on repeat in my head
every damn night.
If you can,
you’ll come for me.
You’ll come for me
when I’m awake
when I’ve forgotten to wait
when I’m safe…
the scimitar shouts shiny cries of
sweet sick savagery
for your needy skin.
Hmm, come then…
let me satisfy your need.

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