Blue Eyes, Blue Bruises

Men are supposed to love you.Hold your hand and tell you that you are pretty. He said I was beautiful when he held me by the throat and tried to slip my innocence into his back pocket.The words rolling off his tongue caught my skin like a zipper and shut out everyone else. He looked at me with blue eyes, and he left me with blue bruises.He tightened his grip on my wrists and told me not to tell,I tried to fight back but when they asked about the marks I had to say -I fell. But the truth isI was nearly robbed of something far more valuable then any amount of money.Truth is,I was begging him to stop when he covered my mouth and said "it's okay, honey" This was months ago, but to this day when you try to kiss me I flinch.And I want you to understand- but I know you can't and I'm not trying to be a bitch. But babe, I'm a little scared and a little scarred. And maybe you could say traumatized but when you whisper to me I think of him, I think of living hell and his committed sin.   

This poem is about: 
Me

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