The cicadas call. A silent serenade in the dark. In the distance dogs are howling as if preparing for a fight. It's quiet out here. But inside you're raging. Fire and brimstone spit from a perfect tongue. You've hit the pipe and I've hit the bottle and the only distance between us is how high and how drunk. I shake my head at the sound of your voice. You're yelling and enraged. I light a smoke and draw in the toxic breath. Do I move? Or do I stay? I'm too drunk for this and you're tweaking too hard to care. I want to cry because more than anything I want you to go knowing I have you. Knowing that I will have you through it all. But how do you hold someone who never wants to come down?

And here I sit with the cicadas lullaby and the dogs in the distance and the sound of breaking glass and you talking to a shadow that isn't there.

But I love you and so I take another drink and I light another smoke and I prepare myself for the battle ahead