Untitled Story Poem #2

This is the second part which goes along with Untitled Story Poem #1.

My eyes stung
bleeding
dry
from staring at the screen
unable to believe what I was seeing.
Yet it was right there.
In bold lettering and flashing lights.
A tour
trip
to hunt down rapists of children.
A new trade
catering to the justified.
 
It took some planning
Money.
Time.
Passport.
I was more than ready
on departure day.
I did not know what to expect.
I did not know who was meeting me.
I did not know anything 
beyond the burning desire within
to hunt down 
and maul these dangerous men.
 
Envelope waiting upon arrival
telling me where to go.
My money has been received
the rest of the info
it will be there.
Seedy part of town
dilapitated hotels all around
wondering if I have been played
wandering into the sex trade.
 
The man waiting in my room
put all fears to rest.
Reason for the seediness
no one is missed
dead bodies 
a dime a dozen.
This is where the broken weep.
There is a finesse
to slaying with ease
without spray back
blood 
making you visible to the eye.
 
Taught to move through the shadows
loose walk
no tension
just another girl out for a walk.
No fear here
that I will be attacked
this is the lair of indignity
all know I am an avenger
stay out of my way.
Stalking
stiletto drawn
loosely held
no need to cause alarm 
the prey cavorting before me
will fall when I decide.
Misting rain
torrential downpour
hide me
hide my intent
until it is too late.
Muffled scream
blanketed yell
I leap.
One slick slash
blood pumps warm
body falling to the street.
Walking away
stiletto dropped
washed away
down the grate.
I become
one more shadow
moving through the night
without any cares.
December 29/18
Photo by Djim Loic on Unsplash

Untitled Story Poem #1

Sordid unlit alleys
moisture in the air
haunted eyes peering through the cracks
waiting for the devil to draw near.
Did you know 
that there is a disgusting trade
in which a pedophile may book a trip
where he is than provided with a broken child?
Tiny little bodies
left strewn as waste
screams 
half ripped 
from their throats.
Did you know
that it takes a lot 
to break through a child’s defenses?
Leaving them cold
numb
unable to even muster 
the fear that would make them undone.
They no longer have emotions
icy
hearts encased with black ink
until time ceases to have meaning.
Oblivion will come calling
Thantos will hover within reach.
Did you know 
children of abuse
blame themselves?
Cannot fathom what they have done
to be treated as thus. 
Each death
another child
another innocent 
torn away.
Each death
another child 
another innocent
sold
snatched
discarded
for trade.
December 28/18
Photo by Travis Bozeman on Unsplash