PMS and a Hand Grenade
Eriol Fox
‘You’re the one that made the mistake;
Don’t try to place the blame
On my hormones,’
The words fell out of my mouth,
Sinking rapidly like a stone.
I may have screwed up, but
You’re the one who screwed
Me over.
Irrationality is not
A nationality or a gender -
If we’re the underdogs, must we
Always be our own defenders?
Denial may not be
An Egyptian river, but
For you it’s a
Perpetual state of
Residence. The thought
Makes me quiver.
You throw explosive
Words out into the middle
Of the room; so why
Are you surprised
When they activate
My trigger?
Do you really expect
Me to stand calmly there,
While you snigger behind my back
At all that I hold dear?
You think my emotions
Are a minefield;
Be careful where you step, or
You might set me off.
Do you really think
Of a relationship
As a war zone?
Does that make me
An opposing country,
Your enemy out of necessity?
I am not a conquest to be made;
Neither are you a conquering hero.
I refuse to fight anymore.
This war is over.
