I hate you

Ways that you annoy me:

when
you point out the elephants in the room
trumpeting along their songs
and volume’s up

I hate it

Saying to the world
“Hear me, hear me”

you annoy me with every sweep of your being
Cawing like a neon peacock
irritating
the sand to my sock
I hate it

What are you, milk?
Because you made me vaguely nauseous (but I’m too fond of cookies to give it up
and soy’s just not the same)
I hate it

your suffocating embrace
holds the pieces in place (if only precariously so)

I hate it