Purple

Every night you come home,

Your eyes, red and your mouth

Reeking of the cheap booze

You had hours ago. Was it solo?

Or was it with her? The one

Whose fragrance lingered on

Your favourite shirt.

You glare at me, the scowl is back.

My legs wobble and hands shake,

As you fumblingly approach me.

My knees give in and I collapse

On the ground, under your cruel eyes.

The belt buckle clicks open, and I hear it

Slide across the fabric of the grey trouser;

It touches the ground, dangling,

Like a venomous snake. The black leather,

Smooth, it touches my skin and I

Mumble an apology, hoping you'd

Give me one last chance. A chance

To show that I can be her, I can be

Who you'd want to come back to

Every night in your bed, in your home;

But chances are long gone.

My heart breaks with every whip, and lash

Every wince I swallow and take it all in.

Because I realised our love isn't red like rose,

But purple, like a big, ugly bruise.