Mad.

Minutes pass like seconds to me,
Each time we argue & fight so bitterly.
I can't help the thoughts that come to mind.
Like wanting to do things, that are so unkind.
I know I'm a little fucked, and it's wrong,
But it'd feel so lovely smashing his bong.
Maybe break some strings on his guitar,
Or hide his skateboard away, somewhere far.
Even though it makes me feel a bit bad,
Those are the most pleasant thoughts when I'm mad.