At first it was intriguing
a diversity of deranged
and severely distorted experiences
to write about in my poetry.

But after a while it got to me.
There was nothing gratifying
or even entertaining.
The lying and scheming
was straining.
The days of distrust
were spent hoping
that he would get busted
or just get busted up
and never come back.

An argument,
then weeks were spent
in cool calmness.

But he would always
come back again
act like he was a friend
use my water and electricity,
eat my food,
ask to borrow money from me
and when I insist,
refuse to leave.

Once I had a curiosity,
then I had compassion,
but all that is drained from me.
Now, all I see is me tense and angry.

I want that ******* ******
to stay the hell away from me
but my roommate
keeps letting him back in
cause he is family