How dare you dangle flesh and blood
from the edge of your thumb,
like she’s some sort of hangnail
you’re dying to get rid of.
Like she’s some sort of inconvenience.
You can pull the wool over her eyes
but I see your wicked ways.
The secrets you’ve tucked behind your eyelids.
Those ones that haunt you while you sleep.
They’ve been gifted to me
and now
your lies will spread like the plagues of Egypt.
-Saschia Johnson
