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.