Enemy from my Past
by Sabrina Dawkins
I saw your mouth spread and assumed it was a smile.
But even dogs show their teeth.
Then you started up with the quick-fire questions.
I’m sorry, are you a friend or an enemy?
Your forehead wrinkled and you leaned in
so not to miss a breath of my reply.
I felt uncomfortable and small and ambushed.
But we are taught to always be polite.
If I’d seen hungry emptiness before that day
trust me, I wouldn’t have come.
I answered your questions in a small shaky voice
hoping soon the interrogation would be done.
“Show her no mercy” was your driving force;
I could tell as your eyes reached my soul.
When you poked and poked and let yourself in
my arms failed trying to keep the door closed.
And once inside, you numbered my flaws.
Only some can be seen on the exterior.
But these interior flaws are much more valuable
since they are much harder to alter.
Are you happy with your result
after gathering my flaws, as you tiptoed walking out?
But you’re reminded again when you’re left alone
it’s your own hollowness that really counts.
The information you snuck and stole from me
hoping to one-up a foe
is already my past, my distant past at that.
Now I’m a person you no longer know.