You love me.
You love my skin in colours I did not know my brown could rise to
patches where once hair grew
A tilt to the bridge of my nose
You love that too.
A limp in my stride
Welts on my back
Boot marks on my behind.
I ask why and how I made you do this.
As I hold my stomach praying my insides stay in
I try to work it out not knowing where to begin.
We live where reality is distorted,
up is down and sky is ground
that is the place where your fists loved me.
Held me tight in an embrace that caused me to lose consciousness.
and gain back only pieces of myself.
It was your love that taught me to curl up foetal position.
taught me of a question that sleeping pills may have answered.
And although your love may have once made me smile
it now curved my lips only in bruise.
It coloured me in the rainbow of purple, red and blues
( greens and blacks in hues)
It refused to see that which you did when you came out of your reverie.
The map of pain you drew on my body
would heal and close borders
But internally scars were kept filed away neatly in folders.
Always ready to enter my sleep and rape my dreams.
Sounds of your fists constantly reminded me that you were a man.
Whatever harm I had caused had obviously questioned your strength.
Your full physical strength.
You needed to show me,
it was of the utmost urgency
that you imprinted into my skin the shades of your masculinity.
And I had to learn quickly that this whole situation was because of me.
I did something to you so that you may do this to me.
To correct me.
Because you love me.
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