through a bruised eye
there’s little to see
but the scratches on my arms
and the rows of teeth
in your jagged grin.
i can’t move
from one side of the room
to the other
without your needle.
you nurse me back to health
in your bloody arms
and tear me down again,
stitch me up like a doll
and drag me home.
what can I say?
i guess I'm a sucker
for all that romantic crap.