i don’t care if you leave me
bruised, purpled skin under blue
eyes. blood dripping down
your lip, marks made with
nails (i don’t remember
what it’s like to feel
safe here). i can feel you breathe
above me, can feel the choke
before you grab my neck
(we will never be
a love poem, only ever
a wrestling). when you throw
me, drown me in throttle,
i will know what it’s like
to be a rag doll: to have stitched
red lips drip insulin, your thirst
to my mouth (i can see your green
eyes tremble in the light).