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.
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