#1 on the Never Ending List

Detached

bemused smile

graces pursed lips

as down the silvered blade

blood

drawn to the handle

held upright

crimson

gleaming in the fire light

at my feet

a man?

a dummy?

a woman?

I know not

only that my captor they were.

Flush with freedom

now I am

never looking back

never facing backwards

feral snarl

hands clawed

no longer a captive victim

bray at the moon

hunting down

the vile assassins

of childhood innocences

creating

molding

changing me

into a woman

who brokers no pain

will listen to no pleas

will heed no promises

as I stand

watching

head cocked

smile fading from these lips

eyes harden

out comes the list…..

one more down

a hundred more to go.

©Jan. 31/22

Picture via Pinterest