he caresses every bottle

like it's the first one he's had

saying

it ain't love

but it ain't bad

it's the only reward

bestowed upon me

and I have served faithfully



I can see he is scarred

from doing some hard time

but I let alone what is broken

'cause it isn't mine

he strikes out at me

when I am within reach

then he reaches for me

when I draw the line



sometimes it seems like love

is just a fancy word for compromise

you gotta read between the years

you gotta write between the lines

you gotta try to understand

the grandness of the man behind the petty crimes

and let him off easy sometimes



I have only just met

an old old friend

we've been walking around holding hands

I hope some day he can bend

as far as it takes to understand

and risk breaking open again