ZerinAubeSkullgrove
My own Mr. J. is a mystery.
The love we share is neither perfect or misery.
The way he holds me shows me that he cares.
But, when I'm with him, my anger flares.
I kiss him hard and hold him tight.
But, when I mention a friend, we fight.
He will be courteous and open the door.
But, sometimes, he will swift kick me to the floor.
I will cook him supper and get him a beer.
But, if he makes me mad, I'll get him down with a spear.
I love him, and he loves me.
But, together, we are perfect misery.