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Aug 2019
There's a stabbing memory that I hold dear to me
It's that night you tied my hands behind my back and rocked me to sleep
Barely, drunkenly, I awoke to frozen veins with the cold shakles still on my wrists
I sat, and shifted, and turned and tossed
No matter which direction I faced, I smelled your scent in the wind
My trampled fingers retraced my steps in the fields of hair on your chest until you opened your eyes
You turned towards me, pressed your foot against my body hard enough until I slid off the edge of the bed
The shackles pulled me down head first, smashing against the floor and making a crack in the dark hardwood
A clean break
But instead of resuming the usual routine of a graceful departure
I locked your door, dragged the angel out of the closet
and demanded that he tell me why I couldn't have you
He told me to table the conversation
Jalisa Allycia
Written by
Jalisa Allycia  25/F/New York
(25/F/New York)   
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