His Form Of Love

And it's you,

Hurting me again.

It gives you pleasure,

Eh?

I'll try finding happiness

In your pleasures.

Have you become heartless?

Or have I become a robot!

Maybe,

I'm used to you hurting me.

I might be shocked,

If you don't do so.

But,

I've seen your eyes,

Searching for me,

In the crowd,

Stealing glances.

I ask why?

Why hiding it from me?

Why expressing hate?

Is it your form of love?

I don't know what it is.

But even by hurting me,

At least you think of me.

And that's what,

I'm contented with.