memories
sitting on the floor
while he’s sitting on a chair
he instructs i obey
memories…get out of here…
on the floor, in the hall
my memory is blank
no one’s home, we’re all alone…
at least that’s what i think.
half asleep, the door opens
while i lie here in bed
i feel his presence as he enters
hair and face too close, so red.
a matress, on the living room floor
on a friday night so late
memory’s dim, but it isone of those i hate.
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