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