Black and Blue

It was a different kind of love
To say the very least
   We kept our secrets in a glove
The Devil's kind of feast

   Long sleeves in the heat of July
I became a makeup artist
   No one questioned why
I guess I was the smartest

   A toothache from his sweetness
When he began feeling guilt
   His love was my weakness
I couldn't bear to watch it wilt

   Before long I would chew on my leash
I needed consequences
   I once tried calling the police
So he barb wired my fences

   Despite my efforts to stay out of trouble
I maintained a black and blue
   One day I went and popped his bubble
It was the last thing I would do

   I wasn't afraid of dying
I was going to a better place
   Nope, that's not why I was crying
Who would do my face???

   As crazy as it sounds
I didn't want anyone to know
   I know he was out of bounds
But my job was to put on a show
Copyright © | Year Posted 2015

Poem

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Hunjeri Avatar
April 9, 2015 at 4:19 AM
Great write on abuse. #7
Love Avatar
April 7, 2015 at 11:24 AM
very enjoyable read.... too easy to relate to your words. xo Lizzy
Roper Avatar
April 7, 2015 at 9:36 AM
Wonderful write a 7. A tribute to those that or battered physically and mentally every day or mistreated. Blessings for this courageous write
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