It's all in your head that I don't love you,
My love's fake, and not the spring that's true.
It's all in your head that my love's a pain,
The seed in your womb is not love, but forced strain.

It's all in your head that I ain't cherishing you,
My care's a show, and I don't care what to do.
It's all in your head that you don't feel the care,
For my feelings are false, and my emotions I share.

It's all in your head that you're afraid and unloved,
I love you with my last breath, or so I've proved.
It's all in your head that you scream when I love,
You sometimes deserve the autumn, sent from above.

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Though I wrote this poem from the abuser's perspective, I have come to realise that it can also be interpreted from the victim's perspective.

The perspective is like the victim is having a conversation with themselves where voice of the abuser is echoing in their brain, making it harder for the victim to differ from reality and negativity coming from themselves.