Too much strength for them, those monsters.
I am too little to be broken into shards.
I’m in the kitchen, sharpening the knife
meant for vegetables and fish,
in preparation for what could be my last attempt
to stay alive if not properly handled.
As much as I love hard copies, I won’t hold
a poetry book. Both hands would be occupied.
I’ll go for the neck, left hand around the neck,
then the right holding the knife to the neck
And before the count of one, one of us must be down.
Imagine it’s me, I must slit the throat, blood dripping
down the neck. No! Don’t think of a reversed occurrence.
Have you seen a mythical monster before?
In your dream like my first after my mother’s demise?
Tell me about your long night, of screams and sweat.
Fantastic piece, Blessing. The line ‘I’m too little to be broken into shards’ really did it for me. Powerful imagery. Then you polished it off with the last line ‘Tell me about your long nights of/ screams and sweat.’ I bet anyone who’s ever had a nightmare would relate. Bravo!
Thanks for the honest feedback.
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