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.