He says he loves me!
In the summer, in the rain, with kisses and roses.
I am worshiped by his praises, adoration, and gentleness.
We laugh too loud, we cry just enough.
I press the words into my soul.
Wedding florals, lemon cake, lacy dresses.
We dance, we float, we offer promises of eternity.
He says he loves me!
Hands on my stomach, eyes to my heart.
This is goodness, joy, something we made.
We find the first marks of stress in bedrest
Fatigue, I cannot shake as my belly grows.
Then she is here, our daughter. Perfect, precious.
She has his nose and my brow. Our hearts fill.
He says he loves me!
As our daughter takes her firsts.
First steps, first words, first fit.
Spoilt by my parents, our daughter won't be.
We disagree on the right way to love her.
He has impatience, a temper. He's a stranger.
He apologizes; he soothes. Soon, all is well.
He says he loves me!
But sometimes I am hard to love.
We yell, we bicker, we fight.
His hands find my neck, my cheek
In a way I have never known.
A mistake, an accident. My fault.
Never again, he promises. I believe it.
He says he loves me!
Yet I wear purple and excuses.
He controls me. A puppet. I am lost.
In the force of his reckoning, vows shatter.
The belt finds my daughter; his fists find me.
I cannot exist in the prison he built
Out of my memories of affection.
He says he loves me!
As I pack my bag, my brother there
As assurance, hovering, watching.
Love is not enough. Not his cursed definition.
Love is not violence, ownership, hate.
I spit on his love. Burn it to ashes.
His love is rotten and I deserve better.
About the Creator
Laura Lann
I harbor a deep passion for horror and fantasy, often heavily mixed together. After a tumultuous childhood, I find myself often writing about family dynamics as well. In my spare time, I can be found drawing or painting.
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