Shame on you
for making my heart
offered as a pillow
for you to rest your blue battered cheek to
your punching bag
swinging like a carcass on a hook

These hands that once held yours
as the ground shifted below you
offered to steady, to pull you back from rocky cliffs
only to be cut and splintered
asked why I’m hitting myself, why I’m hitting myself
why can’t these fingers that you broke
still touch you

These eyes, once flooded with tears
when you couldn’t yet cry your own rivers
washed the dirt and blood away to see
the bright glass pebble of you beneath it all
sparkling in the sun, your promise
veiled by your fear,
called ugly,
closed.

My love will not grow again
in such unwelcome terrain.
Think you’ve fooled me twice?
Shame on you.