I see you there.
You’re goofing off again.
I wonder why I bother
As I tell you to get busy.
You sneer at me
Don’t tell me what to do!
And I sneer back
Yeah, yeah, get to work.
You throw your head back and roar.
I yell over the sound at you.
You pick up a jacket and hit me with it.
I utter that familiar line
When you hit me, I want to hit you back!
And you hit me again.
And I don’t hit you back.
And I’m yelled at to stop touching you.
Later, you escape your work and come back with something annoying
Like a squeaking dog toy.
And you come up and squeak it over and over
Ever persistent.
When I ignore you,
You lift a brow and begin pacing
Still squeaking.
And squeaking.
I feel the urge to scream and punch you in the face
But I have control.
And yet, you still say I have anger management problems
And that I punch you in your sleep.
I laugh at your ridiculous words
And you make up a new lie.
Here I am today, Sister.
On top of the world.
And where are you?
Still squeaking your toy at me?
No.
I’m too far up to hear you.
On a planet called LaForza
Where dragons roam and monarchs rule.
A vast landscape of the imagination.
This has brought me up
Far above you, Sister.
I’ll miss you down there.
I’d write you a letter
But I’m busy with my stories
Up on cloud nine.
YOU ARE READING
That's so LÄM [Poetry]
PoetryA jumble of lines and stanzas are somewhere in my head, and here's where I'm squeezing them out. Like a trashcan for the brain.