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.


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