You chase the Diptera as though you are a warrior. I want to grab arms and fight you. I want to fight you as you spray poison onto my freshly cleaned surface, and you walk away. I want to declare war as you kick a towel to the side so it is no longer in your way…as if it were ever in your way. I want to fight you as you watch me, fighting, fighting to carve out of the chaos what is mine, but you don’t believe I am deserving and so you kick back, watching, waiting for me to fail, to give in. You have the TV waiting for me and are ready to teach me how to not see the world, you are the expert the master of clones. I want to fight you, my tongue bleeds from the indent of my teeth and my dark place lays unprotected today calling me in, whispering to me venom that spreads into my blood. I hear the hissing of the poison as you head back toward me. I sink my teeth back in and taste the blood as it spills down my throat.
Karen Hayward ©2016