Honeysuckle

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The honeysuckle is invasive here.
It was choking out my air conditioner
With its overwhelming childhood nostalgia
So I hacked its head off
Its arms legs feet
All that is left
Are oozing stumps.
Brutality the only solution.
It’ll come back.
The roots are too deep, too strong.
Honeysuckle smells sweet
But like a fixation
If you let it
It can overwhelm your present.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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