It was summer,
When it happened.
It was hot out. Humid. Choking.
You were choking me.
Your hands were so strong.
My neck was so weak.
I still remember,
Nothing calmed you.
The pink flowers in the trees,
You left purple bruises in your wake.
And children running home for summer.
I never ran faster.
I told you that night,
In a feeble whisper, the words left my mouth.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
I love you.
I'm leaving you.
This is purely fictional. No one was hurt or injured. All citations of harm are purely physical exaggerations of mental pain. She was unstable. This poem is a representation of her. I left. I'm safe.
