she doesn't know me

She asked me why do I worry? I say, because I'm good at it.
I know she got along for twenty-five years without me.
Those scars in her body got along for twenty-five years without me.
For twenty-five years of putting out fires she got along without me.

Everytime I see her, she asks me do I hate her.
Once a week when I see her, she asks do I hate her.
Once a week do I melt her from the fires she starts.
Once a week do I love her.

I have some pictures of us together.
I'd never show them to anyone, they're terrible.
We're fat and ugly and we look like we just woke up.
Those pictures are treasures to me.