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