You leave your jacket on my chair Like you’ll be coming back A silver glint against my wrist A little weight I never ask You whisper low against my neck Then turn the hallway cold I know the door is open now I know what keeps me close Your fingers find the link The room goes quiet I could let it fall I don’t even try I wear the last chain Loose against my skin You pull once, I let you in I know the lock, I know the lie I wear the last chain And call it mine You text at midnight: “Are you awake?” I read it twice. I let it wait. I count the cracks across the screen Then type the words I didn’t mean One step out, two steps back Your voice comes soft through the playback I cut the cord, I kill the light Then keep one window open all night Your fingers find the link The room goes quiet I could let it fall— I wear the last chain Loose against my skin You pull once, I let you in I know the lock, I know the lie I wear the last chain And call it mine Maybe it was never you Maybe I kept the key Maybe every time I stayed I tightened it around me LET IT FALL! LET IT FALL! I wore the last chain Loose against my skin You pulled once—I let you in You pulled once—I let you in I know the lock; I know the lie I wore the last chain The room is quiet The door is wide The last link hits the floor This time, I let it lie
