Racks upon racks of clothes as far as my vision allows

And my mind wanders, wondering what to try on first.

With the squeak of the hangers sliding down the rack,

I remove a hanger that has a scarlet crop top. 

As I inspect the red heart sewn onto the front, I sense your presence.

Lurking,

Creeping

Skulking 

somewhere in the maze of merchandise.

Blending yourself into the crowd, 

invisible to the untrained eye.

Your penetrating gaze

 follows me around the room.

As I reach the changing room, you stop me before going in

Your long hooked fingers rip the shirt from my grasp

Seizing my shoulders, 

you spin me to look in the mirror beside me 

You remind me 

that won’t I look right in that outfit

Or to remember

 that I will look disgusting no matter what I wear.

Your curved hand slams

the hanger on the table next to us.

I had almost forgotten

how it felt to second-guess everything I want to wear each day 

I should’ve realized that you’re here to stay.

My eyes dart away from the mirror, repulsed 

and tasting the bile in the back of my throat.

“Nothing to try on today?” asks the woman behind the counter in a sugary sweet voice. 

I feel your cold hand grip my wrist forcefully, sinking your jagged nails into my flesh.

“No thanks,” I respond with a strained smile as you drag 

my nearly 

lifeless 

body 

to the door.