She lingers behind hidden street corners-
in the front garden, at the very top, barely visible-
in closets of rooms I find myself most comfortable in

She hums an eerie hymn that is muffled
through the walls of the house
but is echoed through the streets
following me - every time I try to leave

She waits for moments of uncertainty
to burn me with the crimson end of a smoking cigarette

not once
not twice

enough to bring me to the ground pleading Her to stop

Her words, cruel, reminding me of every decision I shouldn't have made
Her hands feel like cacti, they stick into my skin with one touch,
Her hair like snakes, engulf my body and wrap tightly around my neck, She whispers in my ear:

"Dont worry, I'll take care of you for a little while"

This time feels different

It's time to surrender