I get no credit for being the calm in a house filled with two storms,
No applause for any effort to make it work.
And all I want is simply to make US work.
We’re all we’ve got especially when Pops is a million miles from earshot,
So when roman candles, lava rocks and emotional geysers reign free in our throats,
No one wins except for the demons we provoke.
Volleys of cross fired bullets tear through musket mist
And leave ears and hearts bloody, I wish it weren’t so.
Automatics harnessed as sporadic shouts,
Rat-a-tat-tat…we’re both hit.
Friendly fire, is an understatement.
Love shouldn’t have to fight each other in the first place.
But it’s hard to keep peace treaties when we both think we’re right.
And I know we’re goin’ about this the wrong way,
Especially when we’re here fighting for peace instead of remembering to keep it in the first place.
I swear I’m the stillest of waters you’d ever catch yourself sailing upon,
But you know how to swirl my seas like Poseidon throwing tantrums over lost tridents.
Know how to blow through vacation breezes with pent up gusts using frustration fueled fervor.
I know you like that.
It should be my fault for lettin’ myself feed into it.
But I’m trying to be the calm in a house of two storms
I promise, my sealed dignity will only perpetuate them.
And even though I’m begging for applause for all my efforts,
This process of making US work is as ongoing as a whirlwind’s cycle.
And maybe I’m working and trying too hard,
Trying my best to pluck miracles out of the mouths of cannons
And reaching for stars in the reflection of dark seas.
Trying, simply trying.
Enough to drive you nuts.
But if I’m not fighting with bleeding fists and scraped knuckles
Then my silence will wound us all.
Because forever we’ll be blown about in frustration
As long as these storms continue their course……..