Bruises

I saw the way their eyes lit up. How their voice lifted when they greeted you. I remember my stomach dropping lower with each smirk. “I’ve welcomed Jesus into my life.” “I’ve gone to therapy.” “I got a new job.” Every super-coated sentence, Was nothing near what I wanted to hear. But I painted that painful smile on my face, Trying to match theirs. A perfect son, A wonderful student, A cooperative patient, And a hardworking employee. I saw their eyes, I heard their voices, But I never heard ‘I’m sorry.’ No sorry for the bruises; On my arms, on my neck, In my mind, and in my bones. I laughed at every joke you said, And watched as they ignored the vulgar humor. Because people change, they say. But I can see it. Why did they open up their hearts so fast?