The Woman with A Leveled Head

Beware of the woman with a leveled head, 
More often than not, she’s hanging by a thread.
Should you find yourself in her path, beware her
radiant smile, for it, is the smile of a psychopath.
Her lifeless walk, her icy spirit, the void of sanity
in her mind; nothing can fix it
I’m Afraid, for I’ve engaged with her and am running
out of time.
The encounter began with a simple conversation, 
elegant speech and intellectual stimulation; emotions
seemed to have no place in her world which left me
wondering if she’d ever been daddy’s little girl.
The thought persisted for a little while and then I was 
captivated by her class and style, indicating she’d 
been an only child and used to be spoiled, a sign
I should’ve disengaged. Her hidden fierceness attracted
me like a magnet and the next thing I knew we’re
Four years later we were married and I asked how many 
children, she’d be willing to birth and carry,
she said as many as I wished, so long as she
gets to name the first, if it’s a girl, after her 
favorite movie, Carrie. It should’ve hit me then,
to escape and never return but the intercourse
was Incredible and the only thing to quench my desire
that burned, we had four children and all were intelligent in
turn; however, something told me that sooner or later
in life, I was liable to get burned. I was playing with fire, I was
aware and so was she, that murderous glint in her eye said my
usefulness had been lived and that she was planning to kill me.
Twenty years have gone by and I still fear for my death, 
never knowing the day I will draw my last breath. One night at
dinner, after a couple of bites of chicken, rice, and biscuits, I
caught her observing me with a smile that was rather suspicious.
I didn’t ask why she was smiling because I knew, either my food
had been poisoned, or she was genuinely happy that we’d managed
to make it through four children and twenty-five years of marriage.
One could hardly tell the smiles apart.
I passed out before I knew it and came to in the bed nude and 
chained to the headboard, she came in wearing a nurse’s outfit
and holding a chainsaw, and by the look in her eyes,
I knew she was going to do it. She pulled the string three times
and the sound reverberated, I closed my eyes with 
regret, not because I married a psychopath, but because
I didn’t accomplish enough to live a life worth celebrating.

So, from the spirit world, I warn you about the woman with 
a leveled head, because, more often than not. . . she’s hanging
by a thread.

Tell me what you think in the comments! I read and reply to all of them and welcome feedback for improving my stories, poetry, and insights. Thanks for reading!

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