now where do I begin?
The beginning? Nah.
How about I start at the end?
The door that was slammed in my face.
The shouting and name calling and cutting, bruising words?
You know, the kind of thing that can't be taken back.
Yeah, let me start there because
everybody likes a sad story
and our story darlin', ours is the best.
It has love and love lost.
It has tears and ripped up love letters and "Get the **** out's"
It has me begging like a dog and you putting your fingers in your ears
Yeah, let's start the story at the end
because everybody likes a sad story
and ours is the best.

Stuck between joy and rage…

What's more of there to say?

Free fall with that sputtering sound

return to the place so thickly bound.

Where weapons of words strictly slice

a frigid sort to roll the dice.

Clashing, clashing always clashing

an argument still throughly thrashing.

It's a consort to delirium

silly little thoughts that hum…

The Comeback snapped the ball
and looked desperately for somebody open--

I stood in the endzone
franticallywaving my
handsjumping
sporadicallyyy

HEY! I'M OPEN!!!

With an eye-roll hardly concealed
within a muddy helmet,
he begrudgingly tossed me the ball--

The buzzer sounded
and the fourth quarter ended
just as the ball was in my sweaty clutch--

But the visiting team had already clapped
each other on the backs and
my team waited for me in the
locker room
smelly and defeated.

Alas, I was the most distressed,
standing on the field alone
with the winning boon
a moment
                                 too late.

Re-reading past conversations
just to double check,
you dished out
the same words you'd get.

**and not feel at fault.

Indignant. Can’t rid myself of this feeling.
Anxious. My blood pressure rises to the ceiling.
Risk. Assessing the situation.  Your caustic venom I wager.
Numb. As you unleash your anger.
Undeserving. I am not a whipping post. My sanity’s in danger.
Undone. I unravel, broken, before the one I love most.
Volatile.  With mood swings, your ramblings become more verbose.
Patience. Mine is infinite but wearing thin.
Hypocritical. We find every excuse to hide ourselves in.
Resolve.  I won’t go down without a fight.  
Spent.  My nerves, as I try to make this right.
Vexed. You drag me down to your level with every low blow.
Drowning**.  I am caught in your tempestuous undertow.

Blame it on a family feud,
Or the funeral of a man you knew.

Blame it on your strange childhood,
Or the lack of proper food.

Blame it on the wind outside,
Or how you need to feel alive.

Blame it on your last girlfriend,
Or your mother's email thread.

Blame it on the lack of sleep,
Or the ***** you drank last week.

Blame it on the guys at work,
Or the girls who look and smirk.

Blame it on the industry,
Or the drugs you're offered free.

Blame it on the clothes you wear,
Or the balding of your hair.

Blame it on your wasted youth,
Or the constant search for truth.

Blame it on the way she sees,
Or how she shouts when angry.

Remember when you sense the blame,
Defend the honour of your name.

An action caused by outside force,
Should now form your discourse.

Words that flow so easily,
'Never, love, not me.'

Every time we argue
I shut myself off outside
Overpowered by my own reticence
Trapped away by my own pride

You fell in love with the fire
I'm flaming and burning out here and there
You only speak of the one in my belly
I feel the damaging aftermath everywhere

I love us the way we are
Fights, arguments, the regular LQ
We form the hurt, we form the surrender
It's perfect as it is, thanks to the MU.

Love hurts - I disagree.
Words do. Actions do.
Love can heal and unite everything.
Undoubtedly, even me and you.

It would be awfully presumptuous and disrespectful of me
To assume
That I know and understand everything
(For even if I studied one thing for my entire life
I still wouldn't even come close
To knowing everything about that thing)
Or that I could fully understand you
(You and I
Are two different beings
With two very different viewpoints
And for me to assume
That I could see as you do
Would be quite ignorant)

However

It is equally presumptuous and disrespectful of you
To assume
That I am incapable of understanding and knowing
(In fact, I already know quite a bit:
I've been studying up
And though I'm still a beginner
And there are some things I don't quite get yet
I still understand a lot)
Or that you know everything about me
(Again, you and I
Are two different people
And I see things that you don't see
And for you to insist that you can read my mind
Would be the very definition of patronizing)

I was in the middle of writing
Then you called and we started fighting.
Words on the tip of my pen were flowing with
The unspoken affection my mouth could never speak.
Your blue eyes and smile...God why did you dial my number this late anyway?
You say you're concerned and I just can't understand why I fan the flames that are out to burn and destroy what took so long for us to create together.

Together.

Together we're better than this.
Together we laugh at things normal people find boring, and we listen to the sounds normal people ignore.
Together we go places normal people fear to tread, and we keep each other's heads above the waves.
And here we are, sinking the same ship we built together.

If only the same words that trickle from the tip of my pen late at night would reach my lips
I would be able to tell you I can't think of anyone else I'd rather plan out the perfect crime with,
I can't think of another person I'd rather spend nights building forts and making faces with like we're kids, and
I can't imagine knowing another girl the way I know you.