Go on and slap my face

and then

I'll swear it didn't hurt

(again)

and you'll bring out the

hob-nailed boots

and kick my heart to death;

You say I'm always wrong

(you're right)

but when you left the bed

tonight

I thought I heard an

"I hate you"

upon a whispered breath.

Incredibly, I love

you still

you don't believe me yet

(you will)

when I become a

martyr for

your suffocating sigh;

the future's loaded

(so's this gun)

I'd really like to

thank you hun,

but all that seems to

come out is

a blown-away goodbye.

more of my FAMILY POEMS HERE