[So they're doing this right here, right now, huh? At least they're alone. Not that John doesn't glance to either side of the kitchen, just to make sure. It's a small house, and these are big issues.

He looks across the room to Poe, leaning back against the scrap kitchen table. John is calm. Poe goes hot when he's angry. John goes cold.]

Do you hear yourself right now? Take a moment. Play it back. You don't know. You feel. Sounds more like this is how you feel about you than about me.