Tell Me You Love Me
- Mary Beth Magee
- 32 minutes ago
- 2 min read
by Mary Beth Magee
"Tell me you love me, or I'll punch you," yelled little Johnny
as he stood over his toddler sister, arm cocked back and hand in a fist.
"I wuv you, bubba," she said and blew him a kiss through milk bubbles.
So, Johnny learned to order weaker ones to love him.
"Tell me you love me, or I'll take your lunch," hissed Johnny to his classmate,
as he held the frightened child by his shirtfront.
"Yeah, okay, I love you," whispered the trembling boy.
Johnny released his shirt, and the boy ran, leaving his lunch behind.
So, Johnny learned to associate love with fear and dominance.
"Tell me you love me, and prove it," said Johnny,
as he loomed over his girlfriend in the back row of the movie theater.
"I love you, Johnny," she replied,
afraid of losing her handsome boyfriend.
As she yielded to his rough, lustful hands,
Johnny learned to equate love with compelled sex.
"Tell me you love me, or I'll make you sorry," said Johnny to his young wife.
She had heard the command so often; her reply came automatically.
"I love you," she said in a monotone, unable to muster any emotion.
"Liar," he screamed as he punched her, venting his rage at the world on her body.
"Tell me you love me, or you're done for," said Johnny,
as he leveled the revolver at his wife and sons.
"No more," she replied. She shook her head and refused to comply.
He pulled the trigger, and she fell,
a pool of crimson spreading from her body as her young sons screamed.
He fired again, once, twice, four times in all.
His two sons lay beside her, adding their blood to hers,
their desperate shouting silenced by the thunder of the gun.
"Why wouldn't she tell me she loved me?” Johnny screamed the words
at the rows of police gathered outside his house.
They shook their heads and shrugged their shoulders, confused by his question.
He raised his gun and pointed it at his head,
ignoring the officers’ orders to surrender.
"Tell me you love me," he whispered to Death
And pulled the trigger.
***
Mary Beth Magee has been writing prose and poetry for as long as she can remember, with an aim to uplift, illuminate, and inspire. Her work has appeared in local, regional, and national periodicals of both professional and nonprofessional nature as well as her own books and numerous anthologies. She lives in south Mississippi and serves as the Mississippi Poetry Society's 2025 Poet of the Year. She is a mother and grandmother.