Handprints

The imprints left behind
from a night went wrong,

bruises on my arms
from grips held too long.

Embraces were mistaken
for a loving touch,
and a smothering kiss
for when I spoke too much.

“We’ve been together for awhile,”
is one of your arguments.
You think I owe you everything
simply because you give me compliments,

but I’m not your present,
your gift for suffering so long.
Just because we disagree
doesn’t mean that I am wrong.

You said, “I don’t think I can wait,”
but what does that mean?
You only have a few options:
cheat, break up or assault me.

So you decide the latter,
you smother me and moan.
My soul watches on the sidelines,
as my body is no longer my own.

It wasn’t my choice,
it wasn’t my mistake.
you had no right to not ask before you take
because it’s not just my body that breaks.

You see, you can’t undo this,
even if you tried.
There is no reset button;
healing takes time,
especially when you took what was mine.

back to Breakthrough

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