polite

he turns around and lays his hands on me I give him a look I turn around and push it off again and again his hips on my waist he could crush me in a second chills run up my spine forced to embrace him I don't want it. the same lie I tell him everyday one meaning that I will never associate with him he raises his hand lower I place bricks he tears down the wall yet he is treated as the friendly gardener I feel flushed in anger I feel crushed the person I once trusted so dearly the only one that could understand me is the one im hiding from the one that breaks the bricks the one that disrespected the time it took me to plaster each one together confusion fills my head no matter what it's fine you have to undergo this because it's polite polite. polite. that's one word for it polite.