by Rebecca Dutsar
I went to the party and did not ask
to be touched
I only asked
to wear the flowers in my hair
because I thought they were pretty
and let’s face it
how often do I wear color
anyway
Now I have more of a reason
to don grey and black clothing
and paint my lips a red so deep
it is almost brown almost purple
a color so bruised that to
hold it against my lips
I must harden my entire face
sharpen my eyes and look
just as cruel as him
The flowers are in the trash now
long gone with the mix old dirty tissues
and blood crusted
white cotton gauze
and I am here
on my bed
still shaking like he only just let go