In the night

they seek young girls for their amusement

sometimes

they hunt with bait

dripping with honey

sweet words

nice calls

pretty gifts

they crave injustice

like its a bigmac

chew it slowly

to make it last longer

Other times they hunt like wolves

ready to devour

keen to the smell of fear and blood

those times are drunk with violence

shot glasses

filled

with punches and cries

there is no where to flee

from their anger

What is it like?

It's like drowning

coming up periodically

for air

and being violently

plunged back into the water

It's like slow perpetual death

as described

in an EMily dickinson

or Sylvia Plath poem

It's like never wanting to see

relatives again

because you feel so dirty

It's like accusing stares

It's like the night

covering all the light

cuz

in the night

they seek young girls for their amusement

AND NO ONE IS THERE TO STOP THEM