confusing abuse with love


only now have i realized the poison

you were pouring in my tea.

for the longest time i convinced

myself it was only sugar.

these bruises you have given me

were like violets painted up and down

my skin.

mine to press and dry.

to keep in glass vases on the dinner table.

whispering to myself this is love as you

curled your fingers around my throat,

thrown me against the wall,

held knives over my skin.

this pain you gave me,

i only thought were kisses.


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