Is It Love Is It War Poem by Mark Heathcote

Is it love - is it war - I can't hurt inside
anymore. Even if I tried to find a cure
I should have to ask. Why aren't you bleary-eyed?
Why, why are you always so premature
in accusing me I've lost my lease on life?
How much of nothing do I have to endure?
Feel's-like-it's almost drowned in an afterlife.
Oh, my soul feels suffused in grey fog and mist
so you want to be my trouble and strife, wife.
I guess the future with you is to exist:
Because you mock, you laugh, make me coexist.