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
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.