scars
are a physical history
of pain
shoulder
straight tequila
from the bottle
blurred out fireworks
he throws me on the ground
"whore"
everyone sees with pity
nose
sliding off
the big green truck
when you're two years old
only mama
remembers the blood
arms
out of the bar
taking his silver car
so he kisses me
with a closed fist
black eye,
bloody lip
slivered shards
knee
off the bike
on the gravel
taking risks
foot
walk him to the
steel front door
rehab
and go straight to
the brown bottle
washing my white party dress
with red wine
jaded alarm
these scars
these arms
these harms
Here are some pieces I've written and a smattering of my favorite poetry from other writers.
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