What if removing unwanted feelings
was as easy as coughing up the mucus
clinging in the back of my throat?

I close my eyes, breathe in,
and cough as your germs explode
through the air away from me.

I don’t want to think about your
pristine perfection anymore.

Like glitter glue on pink
construction paper.
I try to pick the hardened glue
hugging the paper but the
sparkles seem to stain.

You shine and I wish upon
the star that you were dull.
I wish I could stick a round
blue sticker on your forehead
and write fifty cents.

Like a house opens its mouth
to throw-up the unwanted
knick-knacks on the driveway.

Maybe some little old lady could walk by,
hand me two quarters, and take you
far away so I would never see you again.