LOST

You came home bleeding. Stuttered through the door with ballerina feet, falling into that little table in the hall. I ran from the study, hearing the crash, finding you face down the floorboards. Shaking you into consciousness, brain screaming fear, arms shaking. That rash all down your twitching face, raw meat red, hot to the touch. What’s wrong what’s wrong what’s wrong. Water from the flower vase, blood between your legs. That precious bump that was your stomach, that swelling, that stupid stupid bruise.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s