Prey Tell

Waiting game for

the office of the officers

to open, for

the guests’ wagon

of welcome has come and gone

in more ways than one.

Out of my castle, my home and

my room.

For the mess they live

in, I’m disgruntled enough

but the problems they

pack around are

more like chocolate fudge.

I hope, and I pray, that

they find their own way

but they will not find it

with a co-dependent

mom like me. I need

to grow and be on my own

without carrying the baggage

of those who chose mighty

retaliation for slights so small

they fed each other the vile

bile of hatred they sought;

and with full mouths

and sullied hands they

passed it around. And I

did nothing to stop it.

So now the festering

pimple has come to a head

and the dear two guests

must make their bed, but

in another house it will be.

Never again to live with me.

(With gratefulness extended to Kaffee-Meister of Unsplash for the photo.)

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