Flowers on Her Knuckles
Written Circa 2004
Edited 8/31/2015
I come limping back.
Broken ankle
Black eye
My heart pouring out of my nose.
I keep walking back into fists aimed at my heart.
Flashes of memories into stomach.
My ribs.
My face.
Every lie was a boot to my body cowering on the floor.
You keep doing this to me
Beating me to death
And I keep asking for it.
I keep letting you.
I keep looking for hope.
Wrapped around your fingers like brass knuckles.
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