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I Know Her Best
January 29, 2019
I call her
by a myriad of different names,
though always she is the same—
occasionally disguised in poorly formed
facades,
but still there is familiarity
in her touch,
in the tremble of her voice—
I know her best
as a feeling
inside my chest,
smooth velvet draped over
a sharpened silver knife—
she is,
at first glance,
only a nuisance—
but to forget her true nature
is foolish—
she is never
to be trusted.
© Ashley T., Westport, MA
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