Reckon

To say that I hide behind the word love is false.
To say that I am capable of hatred as expansive as my love is correct.
But I tend to show one more than the other.
The other, the other gets hidden deep inside,
and comes out on rare occasion to feed, to play, to experience life on the surface.
To say that you have angered me nearly as much as the person in question is,
for all intents and purpose, vain.
Yes, I love you. But not to the point where I have
so much invested in that care and commitment that
when you try, no matter how ineptly, to take a swing at me or my family
that I would try, willingly, to burn you to the ground
leaving you with only one small fraction of yourself
one long, slender shard with which to slit your own wrists.
Watching your heart break in front of my eyes
is bad enough, thanks.