The Cuckoo Bird

Let's be honest.
I hate the sight of you.
I hate seeing you- every morning.
Every afternoon- every night.
You're always there.
In the middle of my life-
Like a cuckoo bird in a thrush's nest.
An oversized misfit outstaying it's welcome.

You're not supposed to be here.
Just like the child with a lazy mother.
We never wanted you.
But here you are-
Born from mistakes and circumstance.

And you know it.
You've always known it.
You know that every word- every look- the slightest touch.
Is a pound of the hammer,
Beating the nail you've put to my head.
And it's reaching through my think skull-
To pierce my mind.
To poison my thoughts.
To bring it all to an end.
And you wouldn't even care- would you?
If you set off that bomb.
If you took us both down?
Of course not.
Why would you?
I mean nothing to you-
And you mean nothing to me.