Numbers Tightening Around My Arm

The cuff tightened—cold bands of quiet

squeezing promises I hadn’t made.

Blinking digits counting down the minutes

while my heart picked up the slack.

Beep, pause. Beep, a slow climb

like footsteps I can't climb out of.

The nurse’s eyes flicker, caught

between the screen and what’s inside me.

The numbers hiss: a warning drawn sharp

underneath the skin’s thin bark.

They chart the weight of worries

no one told me to carry,

and still the cuff clamps,

a quiet judge that never blinks.