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Heroes
I envied Saturday morning cartoon heroes:
Batfink and his wings, a shield of steel,
Or William’s Wish Wellingtons wishing him away,
Roadrunner’s speed and Superman’s flight,
Batman’s strength to fight for what’s right.
I envied them.
The last time he hit me
Was with a tennis racket
Round the head.
And seeing stars
I lay on grass
while birds flew overhead,
circling and frenzied.
Just like the cartoons,
Each week was just like the last,
Yet each a little different
But I soon learnt
I couldn’t just jump straight back up
like the heroes I envied.
That day, the last day,
I thought back to each time
His hand would swat my flesh
so hard it would pulse
and the skin would raise and swell and smart
in the shape of his adult palm.
I never grew my wings of steel
Or learnt what justice really was.
The bruises fade but never heal
And maybe that’s why
I still feel
helpless,
15 years or more have passed and
I find myself once more,
Laying on a dirty floor
Wishing for Batman
to burst through the door,
Or drop in from the shadows above,
As I let another man
bruise and beat and batter me
Because, for all I know,
That’s just how men love.