Dumb,
delicate and destructive,
your moods,
your moods,
yes, they are not attractive,
not attractive to me at all,
for you are like a nuclear bomb,
when you come to call,
and you always explode ferociously with such intensity,
that sometimes I wonder,
after a heated argument what I see in you at all,
yes, in that moment I think what do I see?
I know not, I know not but there is good in you,
yes, please don't get me wrong,
it is just that your moods they scare me,
and the arguments are painful,
and they make not much sense to me at all,
and I am mostly left,
decimated by your hot headedness,
and my heart far too often,
it is metaphorically splattered all over the walls,
and in a bloody mess,
as away on my knees,
from your verbal ferocities I crawl,
oh, yes,
what good is it at all,
what good?
Should we end it all,
should we,
no,
no,
that is not what I want,
and I cannot drag myself away from you,
and I hope that you will,
mellow eventually,
but until then I am a martyr to your moods,
and I suffer but there is far more love for you,
than the pain that I sometimes suffer,
because of you,
and yes, there is good in you,
and you,
you just need to understand yourself better,
yes, love is never easy,
but how boring it would be,
if there were no disagreements at all.
