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the walk

blight
on the hand
of time
with the
sugary residue
of tea leaves
in a cup
too long savored

i thought of the
time when
twirling on swings
and daddy's smile
were all that a
girl needed

walking through
cold streets
without
identification
or a place to
lay that round
watermelon head
at night

without the demons
of chattering teeth
and lights that
don't go off
to lull those
nightmares away

put the knife down

and leave
for good
this time.

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Email: katlachatte25@hotmail.com