Pat your knee and command me to sit. Tell me everything will be okay and that I’m safe here. I can trust you. Trust in the way your hands snake up my skirt. Breathe when your cold breath enters my ear. Stay calm as your caress. Smile.
“Who are you?” I ask.
Who knows? Just believe me and forget all your woes.
Tie me into rhymes and stories of your lies. Tango to the beat of your speech even when it’s rye. You’re too smooth, so perfect in your eyes that I step on your feet, then you look at me, repulsed – “How could you be so flawed?”
“Bu-but… I –” …There is no excuse.
I cannot dance on tiptoes above broken glass and cannot give what I do not have. You walk away coldly and leave me on the floor with blood in the cuts of many open sores.