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.