Irascibility
You scream, I sigh. Hair scratchy as I scrape it back,
Preparing for battle. We both know what's coming next.
You left your dirty socks in my ROOM? In MY room?
Why, yes, I did. What of it?

My friend, I've known you all your life. And slightly before.
Three weeks older, but sometimes it feels like years. So just
STOP THIS.
Stubborn and immature, you won't give in.

We indulge in childish tantrums. Insults. Yelling.
We've soon forgotten just what
This is all about.
But we're having too much fun to stop now, in this game of tears.

Our voices drip honey and menace as we try in vain to hurt,
Screeching across the hallway
Bitch.Idiot.Freak.
You always were one for melodrama.

We throw insults like grenades, then run for cover
To where sobs are muffled by bedcovers,
Or tears are just raindrops,
Waiting from our eardrums to recover from the blast.

Bang. And we're back, swearing, spitting. Clawing the air,
Tiger-like with our incoherent snarls.
Fists clenched so hard
That we leave red crescent moons on our palms.

Finally, I have the upperhand. You've run out of energy.
Exhausted, I continue the torrent of abuse, but
You plug yourself into headphones
To show me that you don't want to la-la-listen.

It's funny. Curses slip from my lips like soap in water,
But the only word that can clear up this mess
Is the only one I can't say.
I choose pride over shame every time.

Time out. Now is the time to say something. But there's a
Swollen pride blocking my throat. I choke.
You glance over,
I turn away.

We sit in separate corners of the rooms, scowling
Over our shoulders at our quarry
Not quite ready to admit
That we're really sorry...