Bound and gagged in the corner I

was forced to watch you become this

broken vessel in which they proved themselves

You swear that I was never there but

with perfect clarity I can recall details

so fine I can pinpoint the second

the first knife touched the inside of your

arm and tore a mark

one of twenty two like a personal glyph

nothing but a hairline scar to which

you now attach names and faces

For hours ravaged torn apart from inside out

under moonlight through gauze pink curtains

bedsheets marked in time to heartbeats

and I could feel you bleeding

Wounds healed as they always do but

sometimes when you're not looking I

catch you tracing the record of that night

whispering names to yourself that

might as well have been my own