When love met a bruise.

I never knew what it felt like to be special,
Until I met you
I never knew what it felt like to be beautiful,
Until I met you
I never knew what it felt like to be good enough,
Until I met you
I never knew what it felt like to be hit,
Until I met you
I never knew what it felt like to be thrown,
Until I met you
I never knew what it felt like to be torn apart,
Until I met you.
I met you and my world's oceans turned to land.
Water traded his tint and free flowing personality for the stability and hardness of rock.
I met you and felt a golden coated sphere stab through my heart, the shine of a flattering exterior melting  into rough ragged reality.
I met you and I thought my midnight encounters had become my daytime truths.
I met you and I thought my poor virgin emotions had been given a gift, and maybe it was.
But when I met you, I got a black eye from getting upset too easily.
When I met you I busted my lip from genuine jealousy.
When I met you I broke the bones of trust by asking too much of you.
When I met you I received a beating for every late text, eye roll, unreciprocated kiss, or frustrated sigh.
When I met you my body turned black and blue from loving you too hard and from holding your arms too tight.
When I met you I was destined to a hospital visit  for a broken heart from contradiction and hypocrisy.
I met you and I learned your scripture was translated in fear and your God was a Coward.
I met you and realized being myself will never be sufficient.
I met you and I knew that love so true was equivalent with a death sentence.
So here I am, bloody and bruised on your kitchen floor.
Kicked the breath out of me and my soul is replaced by terror.
Slapped pink with the familiar shade of my fluttering blushing flesh.
Punched hard with mapquest guided desperation that refuses to recalculate.
I am broken by the touch of your hands and the pitch of your voice.
I am beat by clarity of the water  your crystal blue balls shed.
I am battered by your stolen whispers and tormenting screams and steering wheel punches.
I am bashed and bopped and banged by you and everything you tried to make me believe.
My body slithers along tile defenseless because you blame me for the reason of your fist's force,
My final breaths begin to shake because you aren't allowing the subtle self inflicted pain I crave.
And I crave because of you.
And you have denied my cravings.
But you see when I met you, you made it clear that my legs and stomach belonged to your being, that a comforters secrets were a priority to attachment, that your temporary portrayal of teeth could only be activated by palm sweat and eyebrow raises instead of the love in my voice.
When I met you I never knew what cuts you could kiss my shoulders with.
When I met you I never knew how hard I'd fall in love or weak on your blood stained counter.
When I met you I never knew what promises or bodies you were capable of breaking.

*****This poem is a metaphore*****