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running fast
hand held tight
over mouth
blood dripping through
nose broken
(the sound of it was
the sound of her
mind cracking and
crumbling underneath
his prying hands)
there is the red of
a stoplight
running running
past it
feet bare
breath harsh
one lip split and
tooth chipped
sharp cutting
her tongue
the taste of copper
and salt strong
she can smell her fear
a base scent that comes
out of her pores
unwanted
signaling to the
predators that
she is prey
that she is a dog exposing
her stomach
waiting for the kill


first he smiled then
he laughed
his eyes dark and empty
(like those of a shark)
when he laughed she watched
the blunt-sharp canines of his
teeth
she remembered the feel
of them piercing the skin
of her arm
that was when the sex was
good
months she would lie still
and silent beneath him
while he used her body
her mind on the eyelash
that had been stranded on
her mother's cheeks as she
cried
cried when father left (the rank
smell of his sweat staining the
rooms he left behind)
dark sweatstains underneath
her arms as she
watched her mother weep
hands clamped over
herself
she would think of that eyelash
and wonder what she would
have done if her mother had
instead laughed
watching her teeth moving along
with laughter that was
more like screaming

now there is only
the feel of her mouth
tight and firm underneath
her shaking hands
the feel of the ground
underneath her feet
she runs by a bar
her slip trailing
from underneath her dress
like a
white flag
(i surrender)
men outside grin like dogs
and yell at her
they catcall and she
can smell
them
fetid
as if their pores
were releasing their
drunken malice into
the air
she has been in many
bars
hanging onto his arm
feeling both proud and
ashamed that she
belonged to him
the taste of his come still
in her mouth
she would smile with her
mouth
wanting to hide behind his solid
form
her protector

when she comes to the dark mouth
of the subway she stops
(her feet still wanting to run)
then she steps down
ignoring the sound of traffic behind her
drifting like a ghost
through the turnstile
her hands not even registering the
feel of it's metallic length as she
pushes
there is the ticket machine
ticket popping out after trembling
hands insert the money
a guard catches sight of her
she blankly watches
his mouth move
'are you all right, m'am?'
he leads her to a bench and they sit down
she remembers
the give of flesh
as she thrust a broken
bottle into his throat
watching the blood spurt
as his eyes go unfocused
feeling her hands slick with it
washing them in
the filthy sink of the bathroom
the water turning pink
she looks into the unsmiling eyes
of the guard
and thinks of how she left
the door unlocked
behind her
and then ran and ran and ran
body numb
a sickness in her mind a
yammering
she can almost hear him
screaming at her to come
back and face him
maybe her will cut her
face maybe her won't
but it will
end with her lying still beneath
him
her cunt numb
her mind wrapped in cool
fog
waiting for the feel of his sweaty cheek
against hers murmuring
words of possession

she looks down at her hands
and the guard talks at her

maybe daddy has finally come
home after all