Backstabber

a frail black spot
with tiny wings
buzzing of past
when feeding off of me
in my home, my life, MY family.
were we ever meant to be?

Oh,
my fly,
were you ever on my side?
your fortune of eyes always despised,
looking…
Staring…
For my demise.
like knives
each one, disguised with warm words…
“You are the best i’ve ever had”
stab
“I’ll always have your back”
STAB
“I’ll always save you from attack”
STAB STAB STAB


warmth seeping out of MY skin
feeding the fly again
the red blurs my vision
maybe the fly meant well?
I could never tell