You leave behind doubt
like footprints in my mind
only the dirty kind,
on my just mopped soul.
Moments before you arrived
forthrightly as if invited
I had Swiffer WetJet
all the threats of insanity.
I even washed the kitchen curtains
they were misery stained
with cigarette smoke.
I asked you nicely
not to track that
spit, grit and shit
on my just mopped psyche
and you waltzed in
without taking off your shoes,
disrespecting the rules
of this house
with your doodoo smelling voodoo
trying to kill my feng shui.
It takes me hours to clean
the smudge of grudges.
I’m getting tired of cleaning up after you.