Monday, April 26, 2010

Violently Happy.

Violently Happy.

She loves me.

He tells me he’s crazy. Tells me how I make him crazy with my love. But he loves me. I know this. So much that every time he does I have to get my jaw reset.

My love drives her to cut out pieces of her hair.

His love leaves me needing nineteen stitches. Followed up by a three week stint in the Intensive Care Unit.

With my love she winds up dancing in a padded cell. LOVE. Love. love. Sends her so far up and away.

Violently screaming for me when I’m not there. Kicks for my kisses.

Beyond happy. When she runs from my destruction.  She’s the devil and I’m going to hell and back again, to go after her.

Sucker punches in the morning. Lunchtime brings bandages. Blood scatters across the dinner table in the evening.

Running through the streets unclothed. Happy for my love. Pursuing the wondrous creature in the dark of the night is a blissful challenge

Windows and doors provide barriers from the outside world. Locks meant to keep what’s inside from crossing over. Boundaries that are set in stone for the uninvited. Do not break the glass unless there’s an emergency. Or if there’s a chance your love is killing you.

I know all too well of her attempted deceit as she rounds the corner. The city can not provide a haven at this hour. Door after door is a protected barrier from our intrusion. Prancing with her bare skin in the streets. Moonlight grazes her beautiful skin as I wrap both hands around her neck. Astonishment when she realizes the pursuit is over.

Injuries are reminders of true affection. This is his love. Pain is love and my love is brutal. Purple and blue contusions spread like track marks across my tired skin. Face and neck wear the souvenirs of his tightly locked love hold.

Screams across the padded cell when she sees me. Recognition sends her into a joyous frenzy. Spinning and tearing at her hair once more.

This straight jacket is a welcomed escape from beatings, bruises, and broken bones. Unlike my bones, nothing can reset my heart. Sight of him sends me screaming. He loves me, I know this. Happily violent.

Kisses will replace the violence when she returns. She will return. She loves me. I can’t live without her love. Not without this violent happiness.

400. Happy Violence. Violence can be fun in the proper context. Unfortunately I warn you this one comes with a darker twist. I’m not condoning physical or verbal brutality against women, men and especially not children. I was reminded of a friend who had an abusive physical relationship. She couldn’t end it on her own. Luckily life had a funny way of ending it for her a few years ago. Anyhow… Enjoy? m. 

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