I'm Just Sayin'

When I grow up, I want to be a Peanut M&M
you quip
a little too smugly like you discovered a secret.

You already are
I reply
a whole bag of them.

Feeling sick like I had eaten too many sweets
or drank too much gin
or stayed too long in the sun
or maybe all three.

You like that answer
I can tell
but I hadn't meant to flatter or amuse.

Ironic from the one who always makes you smile.

But what color M&M am I
you persist
and I want to pour them all down your throat
and suffocate you with the bag.

I told you
You are the whole damn bag
or else it wasn't about you at all.