Its nothing she says and she truly believes it.
All they are...
just bruises of different colors
If she was being honest she just felt numb
the first time...the second time? Sure.
But over the years she lost count and herself. She lost herself and sometimes she didn't care that much. Sometimes she did. When she did it came in waves and she would go searching only to find nothing.
Perhaps it was fate.
They would go on for a few minutes then days then hours then months and she grew drained.
So tired of searching. Only to find nothing.
She was tired of searching for something that she would never find.
It was a draining...oh so very draining search.
And then she was back to not caring. She almost always never cared.
Almost. No. Almost meant hope.
It was hard almost painful to realize when she was filled with hope.
A piece of hope fell away after every single man in her life left her chasing them with every promise.
From her father, her step father and countless of mom's boyfriends after that
only seeking one thing. Her.
Flesh. Not soul.
An when she wouldn't follow, it was stolen. Piece after piece of her. The pounding of pavement. The blood rushing from her nose, mouth, skin. Everywhere.
And the salty taste of her tears. That was the only way she knew this was real. Oh so real.