Bruised And Blue

“Hey man.”
He says,
knowing I am at home,
where he left me,
a forgotten phone,
or set of keys.

“Are you controlling a woman?”
I wish I were a forgotten phone,
or a set of keys.
I sing lullabies to my legs,
bruised and blue,
we get in the way of his meditation,
or just him in general.
We wait for him to come home.

“I could lose my temper, sometimes.”
He says,
knowing that I will never know when,
or what I’ve done this time,
or how the hell it got to this point.

“As I got older, I really regretted it.”
I sing lullabies to my legs,
bruised and blue,
so they can’t hear,
each blaring blast,
as he paints me,
a lonely shade of lilac.

“I just left my girlfriend at home.”
He says,
knowing he can explain,
and people will understand,
because we all make mistakes,
and nobody knows my name,
and I’ll just be another anecdote.

“I just left my girlfriend at home
and told her not to leave the house.”
I sing lullabies to my legs,
bruised and blue,
knowing he’s not the only one,
and neither am I.

National Domestic Violence Helpline

Mind – Resources For Domestic Violence

Leeway Support

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