Don’t look at me 

all innocent 

sucking bitter nectar

out of that straw of yours

trying to explain why I’d want your old pack of worries  

just because you’ve been carrying them around on your back

I SAW YOU

pluck those petals off next month’s gossip tree

hang them under a withering moon

slink up the path,

 knock on my door,

and try to talk to me about some kind of crazy potpourri

GET OUTTA HERE