"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...
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...