Cabin Fever

A Stranger's Blues

12/02/02

It wasn't me but the cold wind that let you in.
Five feet of snow wouldn't deter you
from my cold, drunken heart last night
and I never know when to say no.
400,000 populi will have a story for last night
but most won't be as emotionally crippling as mine,
waking up sterile in a bed next to someone I know well enough
shouldn't be there.
As sure as it's my signature atop this page
am I that I know it's the truth.
A come-around like a virus,
wartier than the line in front of a soup kitchen,
you hath visitith once more to infect yourself with me
when I least expect it.
When will you finally go home to stay?
Leave me in the miserable place you found me first in,
as a welcomed stranger to kindness
and a foreshadowing doctrine of a defined,
self-indulgent mess.
It was all I could take
when you poisoned me with your sensibly-laced thoughts
meaning well
and then snapped like a bird's mother
protecting her nest.
If this is what me supposing to know better about what life tastes like,
then I'm better off alone.