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Red BMW convertible. shiny and new,
Just like our love… well, what I thought was love.
As you sent me flying like a bird with clipped wings,
As I hit your bed, you attempted to take my freedom.
You slipped the course rope around my wrists,
And with each knot, you lost a bit of me.
You took my heart, you replaced it with bruises.
You thought that would suffice, but alas,
Those bruises were permanent.
They send terror shooting up my spine,
At random.
You thought those bruises were enough,
But they weren’t. How could they be?
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