Trauma
Blunt force trauma
a blow to my psyche from your hammer of hands who pounded into my mind making me fear your preconceived ideas of my undying faith to your never ever loving thoughts about my, then, innocence. so many times-
Time
How many times did I trust the snake who hung, from the oh sweet forbidden fruit who's aftertaste bit me every time?
Who's deep rooted poison made me a pile of decaying flash, leaving me with a smell that drew all vultures to my feet.
Vultures
Every ******* one swarmed my flesh, biting, marking me with their jagged teeth that covered the tip of every finger, that kept the skin bloodied and bright red for identification.
ID
The ID of the body I see in the mirror, Jane Doe to myself, and target to the man who mangled my soul even more that it's vessel. Who's voice rattled my bones and hands cracked the chest casing under my already blue and pruple skin he kissed with his knuckles just-
Just enough.
Enough
Enough of me he became and the red of my skin was no longer his favorite and I longed for my red to change hue and I checked its tone when I dipped into the rivers beneath my skin and all I did was make myself a prisoner to the body I painted different ****** shades to make him want me.
But my red turned fall and I was no longer a color he could see, but a place he had never been and my characteristics were as mysterious as the reasons I thought I deserved red.
Red
Blunt Force Trauma