Fatal Flaw

The temperature of your body
Is related to your temper
And the shortness of your fuse
And the wreckingballs
The phrases that you swing at me
Are detrimental to my fragile form
They’re the fatal flaw of your love for me
Every word I write
Has strings tied tightly to you
You would stand in front of me
With your head down just to appease me
You’re the government
The inverse of a crossword
You’re a palindrome, you’re fake fur
Reading Vonnegut back to front
I want to see you now
Want to hear the way your words have changed
You were always one to hope for rain
Have you found the right umbrella?
If you are a cosmonaut, stay out
Where are you?
Circumstances as they are
I prefer no surprises