The Debt of Mercy

I had my script ready, the lies and the logic,

the way the car broke or the cat got sick.

I practiced the tremor in my voice

until it felt like a choice.

But when I asked for the week,

he just said, "Fine," and didn't speak.

He didn't ask for a reason or a soul,

he just let me keep the money in the bowl.

The dial tone started its hollow hum

against the side of my head, gone numb.

A 'no' is a wall you can lean your back on,

but a 'yes' is a field with the fences all gone.