it tears me apart
knowing that you will
never be able to have me
as I was

the innocent child running
her hands along off-white
walls
seeking Something she had yet
to find

the me before that Something
had found

the me that wouldn’t flinch
when a hand reached to
caress my skin

the me who looked
Something in the face
before it had bruised
all of her

the whole me
the me as I was

not this broken me
-DDF

She loved when they
made love
and her heart
would peak

She loved the kisses he
planted upon her
cheeks

She loved the lazy
afternoons spent
in the Sunday
sheets

She loved the hands
that could make
her high
without any measure

She made no mention
of
her guilty pleasures

With each day she
would have never
guessed that
he would make her
pay

The bruises he left
were contradictions
to the kisses he
had once planted

The lazy afternoons
were filled with screaming
and *** without
love

But she stayed

She stayed

Why did she stay?

-DDF

You’re the painter
and
I am the canvas

You mix blues
and purples
into my skin

Your brushes
are the fists
of a flawed
childhood

I am the pale canvas
of
love

I am patient
as your anger
swells

I wait for
your artwork
to form along
my skin

This is sick
I know
But all I can
say is

“Paint me
and
Make me beautiful” -DDF