I know.
I know the only way you know how to love
Is to control and frighten and scar.
It's okay.
I think we're the same in some ways.
I pray to God every night
That I won't end up like you,
And I'd like to make it clear that you're the one to blame
For a gap in my heart where love should be.
But I love you, still,
Despite your imperfections
And beer bottles
And smoke
And outrage.
I still love you.