You say that you love me,
Passion screaming in your eyes,
As your fingers caress my skin,
Adorning my limbs with green and black.

You say that you need me,
Desperation in every tremble,
As you wrap your fingers round my neck,
Marking me as 'yours'.

You cry that you're sorry,
Hunching over me with guilt,
That hits you like a wave,
Looking at the broken girl lying on the floor.

If love is always this twisted,
This deceitful and manipulative,
Then I'd rather not love at all,
Than go through this twisted hell,

**That they call love.