The First, The Last, My Everything

I see you; you don’t notice me. You order a latte with a flirtatious smile. That smile should be mine. I caress my switchblade lovingly. Not here, not yet.

You fumble your belongings; I open the door. Chivalry still exists.

“Thanks.”

Your voice; hypnotic. My control; slipping.

I follow you. An alley: your shortcut, my opportunity.

I hold you close, the blade against your skin. You smell like peaches, leaning into my embrace.

I make you comfortable at home.

“I’ll be back,” I whisper.

As I lock the door, I relish the sound of your screams.