Lies I tell

The lies are starting to be convincing. Say it till you believe it, they say. So I lie that you love me. That your abuse was your affection. The scars are the reminder of what we share. Your love not to be forgotten. This love of yours, I say to myself, Is one above all love. No love is perfect, So maybe the hurtful words you say, Are the imperfections you have. The sting of the belt on my skin, a burning brand, The metallic taste of dried blood on my tongue, Are just shards of your love for me. Tiny, jagged pieces that prove you care. This is the truth, isn't it? A desperate whisper in the dark, a plea for something, anything, to make sense.