Something to Smile

Sitting up.
Smiling, even.
Blessed with eyesight
by the blindest heathens,
who’s shadows shrank
my spiteful demons.
You see,
I used my mask as a matchstick,
so any castings of the past were lit.
Then, I turned to the hungry hounds,
those bent on spreading
their own dread around.
I blew a kiss,
and believe this,
they turned from the prey they’d found.