10 September Smoke · 10 of 11
A tension.Like needing to pee and holding it.Nausea.
I was clawing again.I didn’t feel intelligent.I still felt like a kid.Numb.
Ring and middle finger clenching so hard my palm bled.
My dad told me not to tuck my thumb when I punched.So it wouldn’t break.
I forgot that.I also forgot to punch.
It was a nice date.He was nice.He could be my safety.I could play straight a little longer.
This was working.Except he wasn’t safe.
As quickly as I realized that,his hands were breachingplaces I hadn’t named.
But my body knew.It tightened like my fists,as if saying:
No entry permitted.
Permissionhe did not have.
Now I wait.I measure.
I wonder what kindness might bemistaken for.What a smile might permit.
I am slower to laugh.Slower to trust.
My body remembers.