darlings, remember,
the dark shapes hiding in the night
friendly enemies fornicating your good nature
they peek out from under your bed,
creep beneath your pillow,
stalk the lonely roads of your dreams
and breathe new life as figures that haunt
your waking world

his breath may linger hot on your skin
burnt like a brand into the fabric of your memory,
and his words may feel like a thousand weights pressing down on your thoughts,
and his hands may leave their prints as shackles on your wrists,
but his traitorous impediment upon your virtue
will be his last transgression

his goodness comes as the price for your silence,
but your lips will reveal the monster behind the mask