Your Manipulation
I love the way you lie to me.
I love the way you force our sex.
I love the way you want to be
alive but always risk our necks.
I love the way you hate on me.
I love the way you yell.
I love the way you kicked my knee
and told me not to tell.
I love the way you make me starve
to look presentable for you.
I love the way you make me carve
a niche with your friends that isn’t true.
I love the way you punish me
by not talking at all.
I love the way you squeal with glee
when my ego takes a fall.
I love the way you cause me pain
and bruise me where it doesn’t show.
I love the way you are the main
partner, the one that tells me no
when I overdo it and get some pride.
I love the way you want me to go
but yet want me to take me for a ride.
I love the way you keep me humble.
I love the way you scorn.
I love how you put me right when I fumble and stumble.
I love how you say I wish I’d never been born.
I love the way you tell me not
to talk to my friends all the time.
I love the way you smoke pot
in my house even though here it’s still a crime.
I love the way you drink too much.
I love your drunken rage.
I love the way you’re out of touch
and always say you’ll turn the page
and change but then you never do.
But if I don’t change I get beaten.
I love the way you say what’s true…
that I’m fat, if I have eaten.
I love the way you have a gun
and tell me you know how to use it.
I love the way you love your fun,
especially when you really lose it.
I love the way you cheat
and call me stupid for not catching on.
I love the way you beat
me and lock me naked outside on the lawn.
I love the way you took
me to a shrink because I must be mad.
Because I lost it, grabbed you and shook
you when I realized I’d been had.
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