Arguement.

Argument
An oral disagreement.
Verbal opposition
Contention
Altercation
A verbal argument.

Led to violence

A place where hands to face had no distinguished lines
And where I thought the better I hid my bruises
There’d be less of a chance I’d have to rack my brain for actions of the day
Seeing if I had any reason to avoid her touch
But you see sometimes…
There were good days
I lived for those days
And that is why we stay…isn’t it?
For those good days
Where there were no arguments…

Because the few moments we strived for
Are filled with open doors and swing sets
Sweeping cold air past her cuts and abuses
Were worth it.

Sunset doped in morphine to drip in apathetic forgiveness into my brain
You see…we were trained
to never grow up.
So we remained the same.
Cast in a pool of predecessorry blame.
My father didn’t really love me either
So we act as we are taught.
Following in footsteps of hated thought,
Forgotten rot.
So maybe a part of me understood
That her picking me up from work and lingering kiss
Were her excused apologies mixed in with
I.O.U’s

Inconsistent. Outputs. Uncontrolled.

I owe you an explanation for every time I dropped water on the carpet and let her wash it with my tears
I owe you an explanation for every time I flash back to nights where my shoulders painted eggshell walls of white with red
I owe you an explanation as to why I can’t let you go on an escalator first – my fear of heights was induced by her
My fear of life was induced by her
I’ve found weakness in her vengeance
But yet I owe you an explanation as to why I opened arms to her braided tears at midnight

I was tied too tight to her inconsistent guidelines
Because if no one could see us
Then it wasn’t really there
Played hide and seek with our emotions
Covered eyes mouths and ears

And perhaps there were better ways for first relationships to go
But I let go of cartoons and held on to the animations of her mind
You see she was my childhood
Ripped from playground sets of sexual exploration
Immatured relation-ships-sank

to bloody bath tub waters
Slit verbal cists into my wrists
With every dialect she knew
Blind eyes fueled deaf mouths of split tongues where stitched ears refused to see truth

She spoke to the tremblings of my fetaled heart
Her makeup was in her kisses
Foundation of excuses
Upon mascarad alliterations

Altercation
contention
Verbal opposition
An oral disagreement
Argument

Led to violence
More than words ever should.
And across the ruins of my childhood
We finger-painted
I.O.U.