You and me,
We are at a point where we
Know what to expect from one another.
You will make me cry,
And I will defy
Everything you tell me, mother.
You are barbed wire in my side,
And I in yours, it hurts, but it is better to abide,
Than to try and remove it.
Removing the wire,
Although of it we tire,
Would cause more flesh to split.
Even worse still,
Flip-flopping at will
Makes a big gaping hole.
So unhappy consistency let's keep
So that our wounds go only this deep,
Merely lacerations on the soul.