Wind.

My chest is heavy with the sediments of yesterday’s storm.

This wind tears me down. It shatters my bones. I fall apart, one piece at a time.

This wind is too strong. The remnants promise a dazzling fire. Ashes are all that’s left.

This wind hides them well.

Midnight secret.

The bruises were my midnight secret.

They came to me in the darkness of the night, after I had put our children to sleep. They etched patterns on my self from the broken bits of the empty bottle. The bottles you had emptied.

They came as I tried to put you back in bed, much like I did with our children. They left the marks of the cigarette that had once died on your lips.

They came as the night came, dark and all-consuming. They left with the morning, as our kids left for school and you, in search of new methods to drown us.

The bruises were my midnight secret. I took them to the grave.

I’m in heaven now. But you will burn in hell for all of eternity.