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