Ask Him About Me.

When you see him, ask him about December.

He’ll say he doesn’t remember.

Ask him about our fight,

The night he claimed to have the right

To touch me as he pleases

Because he loves me to pieces.

Ask him about September.

He’ll say he doesn’t remember.

Ask him about my phone,

Deleting all my numbers

But his own

So I would be with him

Or be alone.

Ask him about November

He’ll say he doesn’t remember.

Ask him about the clothes I could wear

If I dared to go out with friends

And the glare I would get

If I came home after ten.

Ask him about November.

He’ll say he doesn’t remember.

Ask him about the time I came home and he hit me

Because he thought I had a hickey

That was actually a bruise

From last week’s abuse.

“Baby, I’m sorry,

I love you”

Ask him about November.

Ask him about November.

Ask him how he had me fooled.

“I didn’t mean to.”

“Because I love you…”

“Don’t you love me too?”

Ask me about how I left

As me about how it felt

To not be beat

To not be mistreated

For misleading reasons.

Ask him the main reason I left.

Because more than him, I love myself.