I’ll never forget my blood hurting
as you threw me onto the bed
and pissing myself
you still kept on debating me
with the history of your hands.
And I don’t know what happened to you
because you never told me,
but we both know what has happened to me
that it was damning, unfair
I can still feel my blood whenever I am hurt by someone I love,
but I see you doing a much better job with your Grandchildren and
so who really needs more than two stories.
I can go on without knowing yours.