I bought the victim home,
then began cooking abuse on the stove.
chopped up pieces of ignorance and defeat;
mixed heavily in a pot and feed it to me.
Full of self hatred and pride,
it would take more ingredients for me to die.
Brewing in the her belly was evil and chide
topped off and steamed with suicide .
Debating whether or not I could kill the ego
roasting in the oven.
Apologies spewed onto the floor ;
my children fully grown now,
to greet me.
Fear,low self esteem, self doubt
seated at the table awaited a feast.
The beast, I had prepared.
My shadows of the past showed up as dinner guest;
dark skinned, negro; poor class, short, single -parent home,
religious mother praying, bike riding in the rain.
This is my past ,haunting and scolding,
my inner enemy.
Poet Krissy Mosley