Sitting On The Floor

He looked me in the eye

And said, “Now.”

I sat on the floor.

I always sat on the floor.

He sits on the couch.

My couch, but that’s okay.

His “now” is my later.

I hear his words.

His orders, his criticisms.

Sometimes I really listen,

Sometimes I just hear.

He told me that

I would f**k up my back

Sitting on the floor like a child.

But I like to feel the comfort

Of something stable underneath me,

Keeping me afloat.

But his a*s imprint

Is on my couch.

No marks left on the floor.

He says, “Now.”

But I can’t really hear him.