I am the onion,
That fills your eyes with liquid lukewarm and
Salty, because heat, salt, onion slices,
That’s how you cook a heartache.
I am the sucky friend who sits down,
Beside you, pat you on your shoulder,
Yet I’m made of shards of glass, and even
My tenderness pierces you.
I am the Cat in the Hat that creeps into your heart,
And kicks around, makes a mess and takes out everything
Your pot, your fish, your kite, your secrets,
And despite my good intentions, gives you a heart attack.