Love him.

He twirls my hair,
He holds my hand,
He embraces my soul,
But I don't love him.

He talks with me,
He walks with me,
he lays next to me,
But I don't love him.

He crys with me,
he yells at me,
he beats and abuses me,
and still I stand.
But I do not love him.

His hands leave bruises and scratches across my face,
His voice resounds loudly in my ears,
His attacks leave me broken,
He says he does, but I know he don't
I don't love him.

People ask and teachers stare,
Lie after lie, friend after friend lost,
And still I tell them nothing,
But I don't love him.

I've become accustom to peoples reactions,
the normal point and stare.
Wondering, what ever happened to her boyfriend,
the one who used to care,
did he do this to her?
Can her parents not see?

Well, I'll tell you, this little girl is me,
So go ahead point and stare.
I really don't F-In care,
One day I will be blind,
So now, while I can see,
Your fist coming at me,
I'll thank you,
for being so kind.

But I Do not love him.

~Marina~