He Isn't My Pimp

The ruby glittered
In the dim light.
It was encased
In 14 karat gold
Ant that was wrapped
Around Leroy's hand.

The same hand
That sent me flying
Across the room.
He would jokingly call it
His pimp back hand.
That, of course, when he
Was jocking.

Leroy isn't my pimp.
He's my boyfriend.
Yes, he has other women.
Yes, he asks me to sleep
With his "friends".
His "friends" pay him,
But no, Leroy is not
My pimp.

So what if he tracked me down
When I went to visit
My nana, dragging me away
By my hair.
He loves me so much,
He can't be without me.
I loved him once,
But, now...
I don't know.

This is the last time
He strikes me
Like this, but he
Doesn't know that yet.
As blood trickles
Down my lip, I whimper
But I laugh inside.

He doesn't know
About the bag packed
Outside the window
In the dumpster.
He doesn't know
About the excessive amount
Of Extasy in his beer.
Leroy doesn't know that
He is not my pimp.