Mistletoe

I’ve been sitting here trying to figure out

whether or not

you should know my mind.

Maybe it’s just not the time,

but maybe it’s not my decision to decide.

I know that small details that probably pass

right by you have lasting effects on me.

Like kicking the head off of a mannequin or

singing the Ronettes on Christmas Eve.

Sometimes it feels as if you are a ghost

growing in me.

A thing that I can’t get rid of, no matter

how many exorcisms take place.