LoveGrams

No matter what I think, or say, or plan to do,
it's always wrong. There's no pleasing you.
I could document every time you disagree,
make me feel dumb and foolish relentlessly.
But it'd be easier to say everything,
because that would cover anything.
Every choice is another incoming fight.
Even when I'm lucky and I'm right,
somehow, for you, I did the right thing wrong.

It doesn't matter when you leave it up to me.
I'm an idiot who never gets you completely.
The truth is, you believe I'm never good enough.
Say what you want, but the evidence backs me up.

It's demeaning to hear you call me fragile.
Anything can shatter under enough pressure.
If it's not how wrong I love,
it's you claiming I don't communicate directly,
or that I fail to anticipate your needs correctly.

But tell me if I'm wrong.
Whose preferences flip like light switches?
How long I've known you doesn't matter
when, despite your claims, everything stays inconsistent.

It's full-on and never-ending,
the way you've got me spinning.
I don't know where I stand,
which way I'm facing,
or where I'm going.

The one thing I can't figure out
is whether it's deliberate.
I hope it isn't.
But you sneer when I fall apart.

You've made conscious, deliberate choices
that you knew would make me suffer.
Weeks or months later, you might apologize,
but only with kind words,
never with substance,
never with change.
Because it's something you've never stopped doing.

Heaven forbid I stand my ground,
or walk away when my fuse burns short.
You'll do everything you can
to keep me feeling smaller,
subservient.

Threats come first.
Follow-through comes next.
They're only preludes to violence.
A swing.
A slap.
Punches.
Two facial scars.  Two iPhones.   Two lacerations. 

Then, when it's time to explain the scars,
I lie for you.
Because I'm the one with the pending charge.

And despite all of this,
this is only a sampling.
I haven't given up on you
like nearly everyone else has.

I see your potential.
I know your worth.
I know what you mean to me,
and what you've done for me.

So when you get on that one-way track,
declaring today's the day you'll end it all,
selfishly, I feel it's the last thing you can still take from me,
after everything else I've willingly let you take.

I know that feeling.
I know that desire all too well.
And since you won't stop threatening it,
I'll plead my case,
but I won't stand in your way.

It all leads me to three questions.

Two are for you.

Why do you stay with someone who is never good enough in your eyes, someone you clearly don't trust?

Why do you stay with someone who has repeatedly explained how you make them feel, yet you continue the abuse anyway?

The last question is for me.

Why do I keep choosing a life where sorrow, misery, and suffering are the only things I can count on?