No longer will you invade my path
steamroll my nights or
slash an afternoon delight

How many suns did I let you
set too early
screw up the clock and leave me

Weary, on watch for your next stab
at my heart
sick of being a pincushion

And now, firing up
a powerhouse of electrical charges
fierce as the flowers

A lonely blaze it is in and out the chambers
of memory, up and down valleys of my skull
where I learn to see in the dark

Smash monsters, squash your constant
nagging–whatever it is you want with my life,
you can’t have it.