you were the moon,
and i, the tide.
you hauled me in,
only to set me loose again.
"i'm sorry, i love you"
bruises from the impact litter my spine, my ribs.
"forgive me"
the words emerge from your coarse lips,
begging me to overlook the torment.
"it won't happen again"
i try to escape, to fly away,
but the arduous grip of your hand keeps me on the ground,
cemented with a scar to show for it.
and as i stare at you, the fury burning in your eyes,
it's now me repeating those same words.