Don't you love me...

"Don't you love me?"

He says as he pushes you down onto the bed,

forcing you to undress, showing your vulnerable and naked being.


This is the only thing you have ever known.

"Yes, Poppop, I do love you."

You undress as you feel his twisted

cold gaze pierce your soul.

This memory is the only thing that goes through your mind

whenever you meet someone new.

You get to first base, second, then...

the flashbacks...

your childhood psychosexual melodrama burst into your brain like a wrecking ball to a building.

They stare at you like a mirror; all you see when you look at yourself

are the emotional scars that he left.

Now the man you lay next to tried to cuddle you

But this type of love seems so foreign that you pull away

out of instinct.

"Don't you love me?" He says...

This poem is about: 
Our world
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