Phantasm

Your tone gnashes at my psyche,
These lashes
Nothing less than physical.

Evasion's never sufficed before;
My battleship no match
For your vicious onslaught.

Your camouflaged diction
Brings me back
To my hiding corner.

Your stars and stripes
Should envelope me
Like a fleece kaftan

Not constrict around my throat
Like a boa preparing
For his daily prize.

Instead of feeding on my flesh,
You flourish on my fear.

My groveling,
Your tapas.

My guilt,
Your merlot.