This Man In Front Of Me

(A poem about domestic violence, written in August 2017)

There is this man in front of me
It might be just a ghost
I’m supposed to know him
Though I don’t know
where he comes from

This man here in front of me
Dirt runs out of his mouth
He spits with no regrets
I have to get out of here
Though I haven’t seen Mary yet

There is this giant here in front of me
He goes up and grows
The sky is filled with him
No sunlight here below
I have to get out of here
Though there is no way to go

This slaughterer here above me
that lifts up his knife
Eyes that shoot the fire
It then hits down and down
Merry-go-round-and-round
Zeus who thunders on high

This floor here underneath me
On which I fall apart
Glass gets broken
Pieces of me all over the floor
Red drops, sharp edges

This red cold floor here to lie on
And those pieces of glass
here right under my eyes
I just wonder
Why they still reflect the light

©RoseGirl2017

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