I have nothing
But these hands
That expel fire

And a child
Who weaves magic
From our cat’s fur.

I have nothing
But a home with
An invisible shield

And a 12-foot tall
Electrical fence that
Keeps intruders out.

Yet I have nothing
Because the monster
Is in my home—

Leaving me desecrated
And maimed, crippled
With my hands bound

Facing each other—
The fire from my palms
Extinguished,

Our cat caged deep
In the basement—
Her remaining fur

Shed on furniture
Insufficient
To call down Hell.

It is my child
Who pulls me
Out of the abyss.

Seeing her subdued,
Devastated,
Stirs me to my feet.

I realize this:
When fear
Is the only thing

Holding you back,
Know you have the power
To destroy it.

I tear open my bindings
And take my daughter
Into my arms.

We tiptoe
To the basement
And rescue our grateful cat.

My girl weaves a cloak
Around us while I set
Our house on fire.

He tries to flee,
Clothing in flames,
Pounding the door

While we watch
From the garden,
From behind our shield.

When the fire ebbs
And the monster is gone,
I hold my cat and child

Amid the ashes
Of my house—
I have everything now.