of men and monsters

He’s a good man
and I know he loves me
deep down.

He loves me
when he tells me he despises me
and this I know:

because he does it in such a way
that his tongue stops tasting like bitter tea
and instead pours out sweet syrup
all over me.

He’s a good man
and I know he loves me
deep down.

He loves me
when he tells me he’s ‘helping’ me
and this I know:

because he does it in such a way
that each slap, each punch is a devious game
where he so lovingly avoids the obvious skin
so I can still ‘look’ the same.

He’s a good man
and I know he loves me
deep down.

Or maybe

He’s just a man
and deep down
there’s nothing but

a Monster.

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One thought on “of men and monsters

  1. Ugh, punch me in the stomach. This is so well written. Monsters are so crafty at actually making you believe things….and the horror of realizing what you’ve gotten yourself into. Anyway. Thank you.

    Like

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