Round Two

by Michelle Goulevitch

We move overseas
for some months, about three.
Nightman stays behind,
so for a time I am free.

We return to New Zealand,
he picks up where he left off.
I’m back in his clutches,
I feel helpless and lost.

This time around
he has his own place;
but he is always at ours
with that creepy look on his face.

During the days
I do my best to be small.
I am aware of him stalking me
and he makes my skin crawl.

I’m in avoidance mode now,
anxiety and fear are what I recall.
By now I know it’s not enough
to just pretend to be small.

As much as I can,
I try to stay out of his way.
I go outside when he is here,
where I feel safer to play.

The days are bad enough
but the nights are now worse.
I just can’t escape him,
it feels like a curse.

He puts my brother to bed
as soon as he can.
Then his attention is on me,
FUCK YOU, you fucking creep, Nightman.

I am now 10 years old
and have become very aware,
of just how bad it feels
when Nightman is here.