by Mo’niya Bagely
a warm, soothing touch,
not too hard yet slightly rough.
He was mysterious, hiding his sins.
But, in the beginning,
He was only a friend.
We talked and texted
from dusk to dawn.
We were naked
Innocent and childlike,
then a chain reaction.
We fell in love.
After a while,
He became sad,
I wanted to walk away,
I need to protect my energy.
Instead, I sent love and support.
Eventually, I asked him what was going on.
he sat for 20 minutes with a cold blade to his throat.
His dark crimson blood dripped from narrow slits down his wrists,
tears stinging his cheeks,
Creating a deadly mix of agony on his tile bathroom floor.
I knew I had to stay,
I knew I was trapped.
But maybe that’s what He does
He tells others
shocking and heartbreaking things about himself
and the fear of him gone consumes you.
So, you stay.
Like a lock on a door waiting to be freed,
searching for some sort of key
you can’t be free until you’re released
Will He release me?