pinky promise

the last of me under his nails

Hello, he greets,

like we’re old friends,

And perhaps we are;

he’s been with me for so long.

Seen me fall in love the first time,

seen my first breakup,

my first hundred bad decisions,

seen me selling my soul first,

then my dreams,

selling my body next.

seen me at my worst, then my best.

Hello, I greet back, but

the word turns sour halfway through,

melt down my throat like candle wax.

choke.

You think too much, he grins.

My vision tumbles,

a wet pop, two.

The room spins in red and blur,

until my eyes come to rest on the floor,

and I watch myself sitting on the bed,

paralysed with sleep,

my head against his chest.

You’re better now he hums, pinky promise,

voice like honey and meat,

claws still in my skull,

like he’s scooping leftover jam from an empty jar.

you don’t listen when you’re looking

I blink,

and it’s all gone.

My eyes don’t feel right.

Like they’re listening instead of seeing.

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