Merciel

She spoke no word of recognition. Words
would salt the sting of the blow to my head.
Avert my gaze away, her stare still burns.
The smile she offers has me beckon for death.
Oh why’d I strip the pseudonym and bare
each letter for these strangers? Could she find
me by my stutter or face sans long hair?
I doubt it, but my name will transcend time.
The brute will always pierce the flesh, the shame
will pour. I’ll have to fly away again.