Staying Here Poem by Charlotte Ballard

Sometimes,
When I least expect it -
I expect, I expect -
A desire comes to flee
Like a demon is on
my
heels,
bottom,
and every toe
Burns
with unspilled poetry words
Curved back like uncut
Flowers drifted out.
Yet,
no one here taunts,
or curses
or pretends to trip
no childish grin or tongue lashed out
No sharp criticism
Like sharp cheese shoved
Up a nostril and won't come
Down again.
Nothing bad,
nothing bad,
nothing bad, ...
Curls around my finger,
Wanting me to cut
Who wants another?