by Stephen


You would come home every now and then,
with your face adorned with stripes and stitches,
Sometimes your neck it was,
And sometimes you gave a steppage gait.
For overnights now, your bed feels lonely with the pillows and the blank blanket Comforting( ) nothing.
You've been playing hide and seek with dusk and dawn, finding dawns at your every returns
You claimed to be fine and fit as the fiddle,but your non-stop excuses has kept me on toes.
you now seal up on sleeves, covering those bullying biceps of yours,to unopen the wounds, I guess.
At times I deliberately would play out
a knocked out Archiles tendon, only to tiptoe to your door hole ,
peeping and
eavesdropping on your converse ,
hearing those calls you call about some cumbersome sum of bucks,
"Hijacked" I heard ,
I howled, seemed sunken into me,
With our late Uncle's words
reverberating In my head,
"Always keep a clean sheet"
keep a clean sheet !
a clean sheet !
Shit ! I screamed, unbothered of your constant beatings,
You would leave me hanging at the helms of your palms, like a suspended pendulum on hook, leaning me to the wall by a neckly strangle,
as if I was your struggles.
In the struggle I looked you in the eyes, and again, a blood-stained Sclera,
Your linen is now scarlet, if only you would look me in the eyes too,
If only you could see through my eyeballs,
the monster you have become.