windsound

Carnivore

you were a vegetarian for
love. two years since the
last drunken kiss.

now my past is the monster under
our bed, kicking the mattress,
fur matted with blood, eyes
rolling with neglect.

I tell you:
the thumps are windsound,
harmless and temporary.

it is difficult to imagine you meeting
this almost-friend,
inviting him to sit near the
fireplace,
coffee/cream/sugar.

much easier to see you
tightlipped and shaking
quietly walking

away.

---
am I too melodramatic.

and anyways he's friends with all my monsters or at least knows about them so this isn't accurate at all. mh.