Tuesday, July 8, 2014

Words & bruises

Hit me.
Rush your closed fist against my cheek & hurt me.
Leave your handprint on my arm, throw me to the floor & spit.
Ring my neck & bruise my throat.
Hurt me to where I can't remember.

Such a plea is ludicrous, I assume you believe.
But nothing could hurt me as much as your words, so I might as well have proof of this beating.
Take pity on me & reserve the words that sting more than a backhand.

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