Intruded Upon

Intruded Upon

What to do with you?

Now just stoppin by,
Out the clear blue.
Ringin my doorbell.
Just inviting yourself in.
Like we’re the best of friends.
And I’m like, “What’s your name again?”
Not quite sure how to respond…
Unnerved and defensive.
What you got up your sleeve?
Then making demands like something’s owed
To you from me.
Not even an explanation.
Not even a response.
Not even acknowledgement.
If I so choose.
Without justification,
This is truth.

But there’s a part of me
That might not mind
The company-
So much.
At least for a little while,
Til I know you well enough
That you start gettin on my nerves.
Then we’ll just have to see.

It feels so strange
Because you don’t know me.
Just my name.
Does that make me obligated to teach you?
Even though, I fear the unknown in you.
Question the meaning of your presence in my life,
How it came to be.
What are you trying to do
With me.

So I take a step back.
Assess the situation
Moving forward, slowly, with caution.
As I watch you struggle,
I grow to find you kinda decent.
You might be able to stick around…
Even though, I recall how painful it was,
When you visited this last time,
Most recent.

I prepare the guest room.
Never been used before.
Make sure you’re comfortable
During your stay.
Be hospitable and all the rest.
While I try to figure out
Just how to
Tolerate unexpected guests.



~ by butrfly on December 14, 2009.

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