The slap painting a primary red onto my cheek
The stinging surprise turning my face into a burning question mark.
Today there would be nothing further, thankfully,
My eyes swim but I do not cry;
For outside the sun is shinning and there are birds
So i am happy.
Today there was more
He hit me and then there was rough hands
Pushing me down into thin sheet covering the mattress.
The breathlessness as your weight pinned me there;
Black spots dancing into my vision.
The hardly noticeable agony of what our lower halves were doing.
My eyes roll to the window
The sun is shinning but there are no birds today
But perhaps there will be grass in the spring
Luxuriant, soft, fragrant, blades of grass and I think of this
And I am happy.
And today was the last time
That he would hit me.
Blue and violent blooming on my face like badly placed make up.
(I'm so sorry dear, let me get a tissue to wipe it off)
The red lines exclaim on pale skin where he took my clothes off too hastily.
There were no birds or sun;
A white sheet wrapped around my face and neck so I could not see the window,
But only stars once, when my head hit the corner of the bedside table.
I will not get to see the grass in the spring,
But I think of it winding it's roots over me
And the flowers that will grow there,
And I think of how lovely they will be.
Perfect and delicate, fragrant and frail, pink petals that I may never touch -
But still, I think of them,
And I am so very happy.