I don't know why I bother.
The venom dripping from your lips,
Burning my throat,
And I can feel the blood
And I can hear the acid
You get so angry!
Then you tell me it wasn't a fight.
It was just a discussion.
Two brilliant individuals
Chatting it up.
But I was near tears.
I was digging for my coping mechanisms.
I wanted you to stop.
I wanted the 'discussion' to stop.
Because the corrosive anger
Burns away my voice and
It kills my desire.
I don't write poems about love
Or happiness.
I don't feel that.
I feel the pain you cause me.
The mental duress
Of your passion.