“You’re nothing without me”, he says,
but apologizes moments later.
“I don’t want to see your face again”, he shouts,
but then pleads forgiveness.
And I forgive him because he loves me.
“You’ll make nothing of yourself.”
“Whore” he calls me, “slut” he calls me,
but it’s okay because he doesn’t mean it.
He’s just angry.
He still loves me.
But then I say something wrong,
and his fist hits my face,
and I feel bones shatter,
rattling my skull,
shaking my sound reasoning.
His fist hits my face and I cry and bleed and scream,
but it’s okay because
he loves me…right?