A memoir

His eyes, blue and glaring,

Are fixed on my feet,

I struggle and I twitch,

I cry and I plead.



Looking up, he smiles,

A crescent on his lips,

Uncertainty washes my hair,

Blood, my tongue.



‘Oh, don’t do this,’ I beg,

Tears tinge my cheeks,

A laugh escapes the crescent,

And it opens to speak.



‘I promise I won’t hurt you,

Do come to me,’

He kisses my neck and hands,

But for all, I can’t feel.



I look down at the world,

I look up at him,

On his edge, I stand, I could fall into his arms,

Maybe it wasn’t a whim



A step forward he takes, apology on his face,

A nudge on my back,

Ooh…I’m flying, but he pushed me the same,

I swear , I really do, that I didn’t run.