I love you.
I love you like you love the alcohol
You pour down your throat.
The sore throat that spits sour words
From your poision tongue.
I love you like you love putting your hands on me
When I get sick of your shit,
and raise my voice
While you raise your hands to me.
Why do I fear the woman I look eye to eye with?
That I love?
That's supposed to love me?
I love you like you'd love to be the best mother.
But the depressant keeps pouring,
My words, you'll keep "shushing",
Yet love you, I shall.