Worry

She dallies on my doorstep; paying a visit again Wearisome worry waits until I let her come in. I don’t see her at first when she knocks at the door; but the perfume of infamous insanity pummels me to the floor. She steps right into me; no concern for my well-being; rushes me up the stairs; what can she be seeing? I follow the odor like a hound on the hunt What disaster awaits? Will I manage the bunt? She sits majestically having made herself at home; gnawing at my guts, a dog with her favorite bone. “You’re not welcome here,” I say. “It’s time for you to leave.” She laughs liquid and loud. Gazing into my eyes as she sucks on my beliefs.