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