I
awake,
to movement
up the stairway,
along the hallway,
stealthily to my door.
I cower, crouch down, hidden.
Then hear the bedroom door unlatch,
hold tight my breath through purs-ed lips.
I know what's next, what's coming soon,
heart leaping from inside my chest,
air stagnant, thick with fears' emblaze.
Softly rocking back and forth,
eyes fixed toward the ground,
now, most surely found.
Beaten, knocked down,
yet still I -
choose to
STAND
MY
GROUND.
23/12/2022
sex and hairspray,
its what her image screams.
her lips smeared with 99 cent gloss.
vodka and whisky lingering on hot breath.
fishnet stockings,
a hole in one knee.
eyeliner smudged by the humid air.
trojans packed away in her leather purse.
"well," she purs in a drunken slur.
"what do you think?"
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