Have you ever woken from a lover’s arms and wondered who you were before the bruises bloomed?
Chilling in your car, we watched the sun set;
a boyish body wrapped by your strong arms.
Amber rays shone upon my eyes of hope;
your soft caress weakened me to your charms.
Eased by your gentle voice – I’d be okay;
your words of love – a dagger through my heart.
There’s a perverse satisfaction in pain;
the bruises too stark to hide from the start.
When the moon covered itself in darkness,
the fear of isolation took control.
My eyes hid the pain of what they had seen;
each boy that you rode corrupted my soul.
Empathy believed all the lies you told;
those hot nights when you caressed rose petals.
My dreams floated inside your aroma,
but morning brought the sting of love’s nettles.
—H, still stung by the scent of you
