I can hold my breath for
1 minute and 15 seconds.
I still practice sometimes
in case you come to hold me again.
You held me a lot back then-
up against walls and doors and even as we lay in bed.
Your fingers left ever-present bruises on my neck.
You convinced yourself you left them with your mouth
but your hands were my enemy.
*****. Wuss.
They are still curses to me.
Pet-names
You called me when I clumsily ran into your fists.
Or maybe it was the other way around.
I can’t remember anymore.