Domestic Dispute

So I guess it's like this
all broken bottles
all fists and bruises
all "fuck this shit"
after slamming a door

you're such a bitch
(so am I) as we
act as mirrors,
reminders of the things
we'd rather not be
rather not remember being
nor what we could become

but in the end
there is still blood
which flows through us
still drawing breath
into our bitter nicotine
lungs

We've cleaned up the mess
all the broken shards
all the spilled ash from the tray
all the scabs from our bodies
all the things which symbolized
our lives which some how went awry

As I'm off to work
as you sit on the porch
chillaxing
I say goodbye
you say see you later
and with just that
you forgive me
as I forgive you

Now
let's head off into something
new, something exciting
something which will
finally define our dull lives
as something worth living
like we both always wanted