i wish you'd beat me

in the aftermath
i'd gently finger
the bruistes, caress
broken bones, hug shoulder
harness tight
but  you punish with words,
disagreements and contentions
marked only by psychic scars
i always question my memory, surely
i love you and
you cunt
didn't come from the same mouth?
i'm left wondering which i
imagained , maybe it was
both and there never were lovers
here at all just a shelter seeker
and the door mat you walked in on.