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).