Glare at the blank page,
Splatter it with black
the oil that oozes up
from deep inside me.

Shape it to a likeness
Give it a collar, a chain
But I prefer not to name it.

I'm good at keeping the door cracked.
I keep the key around my neck,
In case I need to shut them in,

Or shut myself in?

I'm not sure which side of the door
is the inside.
They bang on rough wood.
Scrape with sharp nails.
I haven't named them.
If only they didn't know mine.