No. Do not visit me in places where you are not welcomed.
What makes you think it is about you?
The songs in my head are exclusively mine,

and you are past your bed time.
My thoughts are mine to keep, and you – a vagrant
trying to open locked doors, locked for the sake of peace.

Tell me how sad you are.
Are your eyes exactly as heavy as your heart,
to long for a past that does not want to be called?
Or ask a heart that doesn’t want to bleed?

I have seen too many wars,
Including one you waged foolishly on me,
Escaped death, and have developed a taste for fear;
And you, left me perplexed in my sleep.

-a sonnet for me