Comfortable discontent

A poem

Grey discontent steals over me Oh hello. It’s been a while. What have you come for this time? Silence.

Fine then. Make yourself at home. I feel annoyed. I know it’s not right Not polite. Guests are guests

Even those who steal, I suppose. My parents did well. I breathe out my annoyance and smile Graciously, at the grey.

But to myself, I wonder How long this time? A day, a week? Not a month For goodness sake. Not again.

I see no baggage. Is that good? Or very, very bad? I don’t know and there’s still No answer when I ask.

Remember that time, I try to make conversation The silence is oppressive When you made me eat all that cake?

Cake for days! I laugh. Alone. I got so fat… I trail off. I should stop, I can see it’s not working. Still, This silence is unbearable.

Then you made me lie in bed For days. Remember that? Why do I try? It’s pointless. It often is.

I should just wait. Patiently, Like one does at the phone Expectant. Hopeful. Quiet.

I should occupy myself But won’t that seem rude? I start to fret. I always do this.

I just wish I knew what is Expected of me. I won’t stand on ceremony Or I will, if that’s right.

Sigh. Discontent shifts. I sit up alert. No, just moving into a corner. Comfortable. Like I am not.