Untethered
by Morgan Hodorowski
that christmas eve you smelt like burnt rubber as
the car skidded stopped and you turned toward
me spewing liquor-laced words while the hazard light
flared and the dashboard clock turned 11:17 and mom
gripped your trembling wrist like a prayer like
a shackle chaining you here and you strained
free then everyone was screaming and crying and
the world seemed to end as you slammed the door
shut entering into that winter night where the
wind howled and the snowflakes were tears and
your cigarette light was a beacon when my hand
pressed against the window as you left me there