you tell me you love me—
you love me so much.
enough to break walls and shatter windows.
your love is the kind that lights fires.
you don’t want me by your side, but under your foot.
you don’t want to hear my name out of her mouth
or you will choke me for it.
how am i supposed to tell you
what i’m thinking
and you say be honest
when you want to put your words on
the back of my tongue
and have me regurgitate them.
do you know that love
is not akin to benevolence
or your loving violence?
do you know that love
is not akin to the possessive
claim of a kindergartner
on a bus seat?
you say history. i say rotten.
i say fear. you say loyal.
you say sorry. you say it next time too.
after you put your fist down my throat
and tell me to swallow,
you ask me why
i hate you.