Lorna Dwyer April 2005

That you can,

Still get to me,

Even when you're gone?

You're not around,

You don't care.

Yet when you're here,

You're like a cyclone.

You come home,

You yell.

You fight.

You hurt.

Yet then you're,

Gone from here.

Leaving me,

With this.

Do you even,

Think on what,

You leave behind,

For me?

I don't get to leave,

I'm stuck here,

With you're mess,

To clean.

You even hurt me,

You seem to know,

The topics that hurt,

Me the most.

Yet still I love you,

As you leave your mess,

Like you are meant to.