You Love

You love
laying with me and
you love
playing with me and
you love
the way my body fits
against yours and
you love
the way your cock fits
in my mouth and
you love the way my tits fit
in your hands and
you love
kissing me and
you love
snuggling me and
you love
my shape and
you love
hurting me and
you love
pushing me and
you love my
company and
you love
the sounds I make and...

You love
Her.

Not me.

Every time you
start a sentence with
I love...
I hold my breath,
tense up, and
I think oh please
no
don’t say it
please don’t say it
please
don’t say it.

And you don’t.
You never do.
and I breathe
relieved but
it makes me
a little bit
sad.
And it makes me
feel
a little bit
used.
You love
so much
about me.
You love what
I let you
do to me.
You love
being with me.
But
you don’t love
me.

I know
if we were both
drowning
you would rescue
her.
If we were both
burning
you would save
her.
If bullets were flying
you would step
in front of
her.

I get it.
And it’s a good thing.
Because I would
save her
too.
Because
I love her
too and
I don’t
love you
either.
If I did,
if we did,
this would be
so much
harder than
it already is.

Someday,
I will be
Loved.
Someday
There will be
Someone who
Saves me
First
Because
I am worth
Loving
And I am worth
Saving and
I am worth
More than
Playing with,
Cheating with.

The thing I don’t
fucking understand is,
how in the hell
being with someone
who doesn’t
love me,
Who loves
Someone else
and who I
don’t love,
feels
So damn much
like what I
imagine
Love
is actually
supposed
to be.