Angry Teapot

Angry teapot shrieking

Column of steam

Rising from her belly

As she yells

For me to pour

She is a bitchy shrew

Reminding me

How I do prefer the silence

Of a quiet house

Yet I rely on her assistance

My ceramic spouse

She reminds me

How I can’t seem

To take a full breath

Whenever anyone else

Is around

How even the trees

Rustling their leaves

Is often too much noise

For me to bear

When they beat against the pane

Oh, the pain

The pain of the noise

Of the pitter-pat of the aging cat

Making her nightly rounds

How infinitesimal sounds

Are like a jackhammer

Against my skull

Bits and pieces of grey matter

Flying about scattered

Chipped away

Like dust and decay

Or so much rubble

Oh it’s no trouble I say

When people invade

My private domain

My sanctum of silence

Defile by their presence

The sound of their breathing

Almost too much to bear

I try to hide the pain

I lie in an act of decorum

There is no appropriate forum

To admit that the sound

Of their voices

Is an intrusion

No way to say

That my own thoughts

Crash like symbols

Or that being alone

Means one too many

So I invite them in

And offer cake and tea

Grinding my teeth

Until they leave