I carry a moon behind me because completion does not ask permission to glow. What tried to shock me only woke me. My crows watch closer, black-winged witnesses, rebirth with a sharp beak. Now, the branches around me are not bondage. They are boundaries. I learned the difference between love and a leash, between loyalty and transactional love wearing devotion’s perfume. They do not love light. They lick it. You mistook the sample for the source. My vision is not rented. I don’t play with thieves. I closed the board. Access denied.
© Slam Poetry by Lucyalia 2024–2026. copyrighted. Use requires credit to
@Lucyalia.