Glass half empty

You wither in my arms as I drown in the summer sun
To the point where the water in my glass is screaming to be tasted
The shelves in our living room is weighing a tonne
Everything under this roof is incurable and wasted

Your loud outbursts has made every wall too fragile to touch
Day turns to night and I haven’t escaped with no harm
The violent works of your being is all too much
Morning comes and my ears are ringing…like your alarm

I would rather die a thousand deaths
Than live another day under your taunting breath
The eyes of the wolf cannot see her pain
His ears cannot hear her screams

The only time he is at peace is in his dreams