• My skin is lovely colors-

    It isn’t supposed to be-

    Its natural neon white-

    But not anymore-

    It’s invaded by this network of gorgeous blues and purples-

    It sometimes hurts,

    But it’s so mesmerizing.

    How long can it be-

    Before these designs are permanent-

    And I am a pattern of lacy blues and purples?

    I stare deeper-

    I see his face in the lines,

    So sad,

    So Angry-

    Always angry-

    Then sad,

    Apologetic,

    A pictograph of our lives-

    Him on his feet,

    Me on the floor-

    Then him on his knees crying-

    Begging me to forgive.

    I don’t even feel it anymore,

    I think.

    My mother always said love was like a work of art-

    A masterpiece painted with pain and exhilaration-

    Well I am a canvas-

    One that he painted with his fists.