I am not a Violent Girl

but he says i am.
he says
i scare him,
that he thinks i
could easily
kill someone some day.

and what else?
i am crazy.
selfish.
a "backwards mountain person".
i can't help but laugh.

then again,
he looks at me
and promises to make me cry someday
tears of blood,
to destroy me,
send me to jail,
burn my books,
insults the manners
my grandmother instilled in me.
and i can't help but cry.

then, not twelve hours later,
when he is sitting on top of me,
flirting
grinding his dick against me,
looking confused and wounded
when i reject sexual advances
as violently
as he would paint me
i can't help but wonder
if i'm not the only crazy one.