I couldn’t move.
I listened to the sound
of the words.
I was paralysed.
I was terrified.
I couldn’t move.
And it was all so stupidly
real, my hands,
the chair on which I sat,
the ranch slider I would have to open
to escape.
I couldn’t say
enough, or use my words
or get up.
And then you came to get me.
You came to pick me up.
As if you knew
I was going to need help
to find my wrists,
my long wrists.