Face Me

It might be time for you to learn that I am your last nightmare,

Not just a spook with some designer perfume and black lipstick.

You summoned me with salt like my terror was a quick dare,

But I strike them like lightning – one blink, and you’ll miss it.

It might be time for you to pick up that old chef’s knife.

My head will float above your bed each night until you face me.

You might get a chance at fighting god on your borrowed time,

But my judgment will hide in each shadow that feels hazy.

-Jackie