Happily Ever After

I like things equal. I don't have anything now but gestures to give. To think I lived from paycheck to half paycheck to less than nothing while someone else spent and thrived. All the men I've known imposed. The one I'm thinking of today also exploited and shamed me. Makes me think I'm autistic or some sort of special needs case. A man touched me without permission. Rubbed my back; I hunched over and cringed. He had eyes like the first man I loved. I want celluloid justice, warfare, and an HEA. The drawing board is rife with scribbles and impassioned swirls. The violin case reminds me of his anger and strength, all knife sliced and jabbed deep with the blade. Through the black and down into where the instrument should go. I keep my tools, a jeweler's loupe, and a timer in there now. Waiting.