Punching a Bruise

Written by: Allison Ballard

My fingers press on 
blue batterings 
for the craft of lavishing 
all the things that mattered
not a week ago.
 
I try to hate you
like a sticker on my puckered mouth
to take the light from my eyes
to make you rage and lash
crashing your jaw to think
that I don't love you
 
To incite you to be an animal
to make you wrong
to diguise my guilt
like beating my own hands
and making a messy red
confusing the culprit and victim
 
If I am blue, there's not pain
I can escape if I fall where I stand
by your hand, my bruises won't ache
these stinging scrapes know the red shape 
of your fist, my comfort, my peace
 
rolling in sticker bushes 
held hard to your young face
only happy, like a radio song
hands planted in wealth
my soft heart, my eden
pulling me out like a flower
toppling my knees like towers
tracing circles on my skin
 
How can I not win?