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  Mar 2016 Marie Lancaster
belbere
mark us
like sheep
my fleece may be
store-bought,
washed clean
of all
identity
but i’ve got
a patchwork neck
spotted and dotted
with broken
blood vessels and
i’ve seen the
girls with pennies
scraping at their
skin trying to
get rid of him
one stroke
at a time
(his lips were
just as rough
as the ridges
of their coins)
and
i’ve heard the
girls with pennies
their marks may
have faded
but their pockets
jingle with
each step they
take each move
they make they say
his tongue dripped
gold and
silver and
bronze all over
them but all he
left was
red

mark us
like cattle
my ears may
hold rings and
not tags
but i’ve got
skin so fair
you’d never
dare believe
that beneath
i’m just
another collection
of broken
blood vessels and
he may be
gone from the
surface
may be
easy to remove
but i still
bleed
(and the girls
with pennies
scrape at my
neck one
stroke at a
time)

mark me
like property
my body may
be a temple
but your
prayers will
not be
heard here
you say
the girls
don’t need
their pennies
we say you
have no say
in the way
we heal

our vessels
may have been
yours to break
but they are
not yours to
mend and you
can pretend
you never knew
what we went
through when
you decided
to leave
your signature
on our skin

but we promise
when we look at you
we only see
red
here's a fun method of hickey removal: rub the hickey with the ridge of a coin
Marie Lancaster Mar 2016
She comes home
Tear filled eyes
Red rimed eyes
Pleading
Pleading for a simple explanation
“He pulled my hair on the playground”
Reaching down
Hugging her
Tight
“my baby
My beautiful beautiful
Baby,
He just wants your attention
He likes you.”
As if raising a hand to a women
Calling her *****
Means I love you
I respect you.

I shouldn’t have been surprised
When at 16
She comes home
Shaking
Shaking and wondering
“Why does it hurt?”
These bruises are love
My bleeding lip
Is proof
Of his love
Bruises she hides
Covers up
From me
I taught her
This is love
Harsh words
And fast hands

Listening to her
Cry late at night
Asking
Asking god for help
To get him to stop
Hurting her
But never once
Realizing
All she has to do is leave
But she can’t
Because I taught her
This is love
She thinks she will never be good enough
For someone else
She believes when he says
“I love you
I want you
Forever”
Yet when she turns around
She feels the sting
Of a slap
Hears him say
“*****
You are lucky
no one else will want you.”

Years of therapy  
And a lifetime of learning
Learning to love herself
Learning that bruises
He gave her
Was not what love looks like
Learning to say no
Learning it is okay to walk away
To leave him
Like the piece of trash
He is
It takes a lifetime
To finally believe the truth
The truth

All because I taught her
When a boy pushes her
On the playground
Calls her names
It means that he likes her
As if like and hate were the same
As if respect meant disrespect
As if love
Love is selfish
Love is the man’s will
To bow down
Because abuse
Is love  

Regretting teaching her
Leading her astray
From words
Words I thought were innocent
Not realizing
The impact I had
On my daughter
Words are power
Lessons are engraved
In a child’s brain
Innocent phrases become weapons
Weapons that tear apart
Their life
Teaching them without realizing
We as mothers
As fathers
Need to learn that our children’s heart
And mind is not to play with
Don’t teach your daughter
Something you will
Regret when she takes it
To heart
Takes it as truth
Marie Lancaster Mar 2016
beauty
unearthly beauty
stares back at me
gorgeous green eyes
perfect
but bittersweet
love so strong
hurt strong too
too strong
how can i do this?
i have to do this
not for me
for her
Love
Love hurts
tears
silent tears
of pain
of love
of torture
fall down my cheeks
as i hand
my beautiful baby girl
   to her new
mommy and daddy
she will have a better life
but it still hurts
hurts to have
a mother's love

— The End —