An Arm Is a Noose
and the arm around her shoulder hanging
that once felt like a teenage promise of a love affair
a sign of romance of flirtation of lingering looks to come
now feels more like a clasp a tie a noose a chain
to the rules she must today everyday follow
I’ll go to the shop for milk and a paper in case you
see that bloke again you know I don’t like how
he looks at you and how you giggle back that grin
inside old dreams of weekends together and coffee in
bed there are now jolt upright sweaty nightmares of
having to ask for a few quid or to use the phone to call
mum her mum who’s not allowed round anymore who
knows something’s wrong but doesn’t want to ask
his hand that held hers whilst softly grazing under a
cardigan gold whispering sweet nothings holds her
wrist now whilst shouting angry somethings she tries to
fade out dull out black out and just lay down to sleep
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