You Again

A New View


I don't believe you recognized me

from my car and followed me home.

Knocking on my door with insistence

trying to spark old flames that

drowned five years ago in a tidal wave

of overly undisciplined enthusiasm.


Yes, it was the drinking and using

my things like they were purchased

from your wallet and not mine. Yes,

it was wanting me to turn my house

into your factory of ideas and clutter.


No, I am not interested and you have

to leave. The same things I did not

like about you then, I like less now.







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