Monday, December 14, 2009

hurt.

lay not your hands on me

do not beleaguer me

with your heavy falling

fists

that scar, and bruise;

tiny little capillaries breaking to produce

a purple so beautiful it’s a sin


regarding cigarette burns

and swollen, aching jaws,

give me none.


instead, love,

realize that your actions do not speak louder than

[but give way to]

words.

words

that can be documented

and displayed freely.

words

that can reveal

that all there is to your violence

is fear.

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