break me down

you held the fork in one hand, my waist in your other-maybe too tightly. mouthfull by mouthfull, feeding me my own dinner, you raising the cutlery to my lips. it clicked against my teeth, and landed sharply into my mouth, throwing the food in with little real care. as the days passed you controlled me further, manipulating me, and trapping me in this hell we call a relationship. and now, I didn't eat myself, you fed me. fed me the food, fed me the lies. a mouthfull of pasta, an earful of false love. a mouthful of pasta, an earful of false hope.