Nikole Rajgor


i was getting ready for bed when he knocked on my door.

i tried not to answer it, but he always seems to know when and where i am.

“again?” i sigh, opening the door,

sick but not surprised.

he gives me that all too familiar look,

and there i knew,

i wasn’t in for a good night.


in an instant,

he’s on his hands and knees all over my brain

his hands clamping onto the fresh wounds of yesterday’s tears

while his knees dig into the repressed insecurities of the future.

he wears all black to match my aesthetic,

because he knows me too well

better than i know myself.


i toss and turn in my bed

as he places his grimy hands over my head

blinding me of sight,

succumbing me to the darkness.

i let out a guttural scream

because i can no longer find any way to escape

what i’ve tried so long to avoid.


there is no law in my mind

to govern him.

there is no law in my mind

that’ll stop him from bringing up what i try to gloss over.

he gives me the truths that i try to bury

because i’m scared of digging at them.


he will never stop trying to bring me down.

i tread on glass trying to ignore my feelings

of how isolated i feel from who i call friends,

how clueless i am about a future i sound sure of to my father,

and how certain i am that i’m not good enough to succeed,

but in an instant

he flares up every emotion in my being

draining me of the hope i thought i once had.