his beer-stained breath
makes me fearful every step
as the stained glass of the bottle
thuds against the wooden table
i have grown afraid of
the gasp of a bottle cap
for it only signifies pain

my skin is his canvas
aggressive streaks of red
graced with blooming petals of purple
speckled with nausea green
i become a painting
to be sold off for my sins

my teeth are stained with blood
i keep my mouth shut
sewed tight by the strings
he holds about my body
control is power, he says
and i control you

he created my life
and thus, i am his
forever indebted
to the man who lit a match
in the chambers of my lungs
and i am never peaceful
forever burning alive.