I close my eyes and I see my baby's eyes.
Big and round.
A beautiful dark brown.
They are his fathers eyes.
But, they still shine with the innocence that his father lost long ago.
A little of that innocence is stolen with each fight.
Each night.
Until he too bares the emotional scars of our drama.
The Baby Mama Baby Daddy drama.
So cliche, but all too real.
Hateful words spew from our mouths cuz we're still too immature to deal
with our feelings.
Our emotions are too raw to be controlled.
Cards are stacked against us.
But we have too much pride to fold.
Or maybe we're just bluffing.
Pretending to be loving.
Scared that my son will only see his father once a year on Christmas or something.