Pleas Of The Battered Poem by Arielle Howze

Pleas Of The Battered



Beat me
Beat me until my tongue knows what the iron in my blood tastes like
Beat me until my nose drips scarlet
Until my eyes are violet
Until knots like tree roots sprout from my head
Beat me until my sobs become chokes for oxygen
Beat me until you feel better
Beat me until I feel bitter
Beat me until your knuckles are raw and pink
Hurry and get it over with so I can paint myself with concealer and continue my day
Chicken or Tilapia for dinner?

Friday, August 28, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: abuse,violence
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Luke Navarro 14 September 2015

Beat me until you feel better Beat my until I feel bitter. Perfect!

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