You like control, honey.

Well I’m taking it from you;

Sliding it from your grasp

In my usual imperceptible style.

Sometimes it takes

A pill kick and a therapy hit

To give you clarity;

And I’ll be damned

If I don’t see clearly now.

The whip you once gripped

Has crumbled into


Your excruciating strokes

No longer writhe in the small

Of my back,

Because all you can see is

The curve of my grin.

And it kills you.

It suffocates the torturer

Inside you.

And I watch it squirm.

It sees the brightness

On my cheekbone as I

Can’t help but beam;

Each flicker

Gnawing at its ego,

And stabbing at the

Oblivion you hold

In your ribcage.

And you were right all along:

Using their weapon

Does not make

The dominant submit;


You neglected to mention

The efficacy of

Forming your own.

[Holly McKenna]

Image: Celia Varela-Sixto

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