Turned Tables

In front of me.

She stands.

In a floral dress.

Delicate petals.

On wrinkled skin.

Her joints withering.

Time was unkind.

So was she.

I still remember.

Her words.

Her fist.

She is a predator.

The hunter.

Shot me down.

A fallen angel.

Inner voices.

Conflicted.

Alarmed.

Run away.

Fight back.

Never mind.

I was helpless then.

She is helpless now.

The others see.

A permanent scar.

Limping soul.

Crooked smile.

In their eyes.

I am cursed.

In mine.

I am a survivor.

Invincible.

Jeremy Mifsud's Blog