Bruised

Your snide comments
Made our kisses taste of irony,
That hard metallic sting.
Gone with soft tenderness
Your hands savagely play a treasure hunt
For my clothes’ buttons.
No pale blushing
Just stark blunt blotches of bruises.
I miss the boy you once were
And hate the man you have become.

poem by Elizabeth Kudebeh
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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