by Amanda McLeod
You punch me
full of holes and watch
the life drain out until
I am empty of anything
that might be called
happiness
or love
Darkness thick like
dried bruises
under my skin
solidifies into flint
hard, unmoving
yet from the striking of me
comes a shower of sparks
a flame
a sun
I tear the holes
bigger
and watch the light
flood in through
the damage you thought would be
the end
I am a light now
and you cannot
extinguish
me
Amanda McLeod is an Australian author and artist. Her words can be found at Mookychick, Pussy Magic, The Cabinet Of Heed, and elsewhere; and she is the assistant editor at Animal Heart Press. When she’s not immersed in words, she’s usually looking for solitude in quiet, wild places. Connect with her on Twitter @AmandaMWrites.
(And don’t miss Amanda’s The Artist Studies the Effect of Sadness on Her Own Face. – Elephants Never)