Oxeye Daisies

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He loves me:

Colorful bouquets once a week,

Forehead, cheek, nose, corner of lip kiss greetings

Staining my soul red.

 

He loves me not:

Loud arguments over forgetting plans for

The fourth time this month;

Doors slamming my only farewell.

 

He loves me:

Unending amounts of affection;

Friends joke we’re atomically attached—

Rarely seeing one without the other.

 

He loves me not:

“I don’t want you going,” he snides,

Those green eyes harsh as he

Disallows hangouts with my friends.

 

He loves me:

Softly spooning homemade favorites

Into my mouth, 

Adoration written in each swallow.

 

He loves me not:

Scoffs and eyerolls upon seeing dinner incomplete,

Derogative murmurs

Coating the apartment.

 

He loves me

I scream into the empty void—

The only remainder of what was mine before—

Hoping the echoey returns convince me.