grocery store run

It's okay, it's okay
I'm weeping into my steering wheel
the ominous end
the Illinois end
that I will not to happen.
Fuck you and your infinite optimism.

Your kissing at stoplights
-we have 45 minutes-
The way you tell me
-there's gotta be something.
And if that all goes down the shitter
You still have me.-

Yes, love,
 I still have you

Fighting

Them's fighting words,
you over-elaborater
taking one thing and blowing it up,
tallying scores
sending them out
like little darts, shooting for points
of justification.

And then there's me
who can take a fight
but not with words.
I have no darts.
I have no art
when it comes to debate.
All I have is love,
dumbass.