It must be love

He missed the toilet,
he's drunk again and stumbling and bumbling and losing his mind.
He’s screaming and kicking and throwing his rattle out of the pram
I'm trying not to laugh, I mustn't laugh.  
My hands are over my head to protect my skull.
I'll take two paracetamol to kill the headache  
and take my shaking hands back to the sink  
to wash the blood from my purple eye.
I am fine.  
We are fine.  
He loves me.  
It’s just the drink.