Cut Your Losses

I talk to God every day.
The only one who doesn’t think I’m tripping.
Just warns me, nudges me to learn my lesson.

I look at my family, armor on,
unsure which dad is walking through the door.
Ready for war over disagreements.
I don’t want our bond to die,
so I let a lot slide.
But when they treat me like an easy target,
I let loose. Attitudes mowed down with honesty.
The type that hurts,
makes them treat a man like he’s x’d
of the lives he raised and gave strength.

It’s hard to understand how love grows so intense
it makes people want to stick together
through storms that tear whole worlds apart.
And still, temptation finds a way in.
Sliding quiet, birthing an end,
digging new graves where trust once bloomed.

For the one who pulled your weeds,
helped root a future in strong, healthy,
mental and physical beliefs.

Even when emotions shifted like seasons,
love always returned to provide.
But now you’re the drought.
Watering a different crop.
And with every drop
on different lips, new pillows, new sheets,
cries from dreams ruined
the evidence of us,
our memories, our soil, is left to dry out and die.