I was once called disarming
I was seventeen
& didn’t understand how important it would be
& I’ve crossed paths with black cats
& I’ve walked under ladders
In bookstores
I like to speculate
Transported away from cubical walls
Where I was swept away to
A place no longer visible
But you woke me
& lost all desire to drive
Grind your teeth for me
Cause mine are all down
To nubs
