dawn,
i am clean,
unmarked, but the day happens,
life happens;

she comes home at night,
abuses me,
ruins me,
dirties my purity.
she brands me with
her own scars and more with
fresh wounds.

her crimson ink
bleeds onto my lines, haphazardly
some days, rough days, most days.
when the world scored a
knockout and she's down for...
a while, she's
bleeding all over me-
splatters and splashes in a rush
and then just a drop, and
eventually it stops.

i swell in red, but
she can sleep now.
pen down.

dawn will rise again,
i'll start again,
clean.
the night i end blank,
safe from the whippings and
harshness of experience, and she
doesn't come to me-

it's the end of her,
the death of me.