tipping point

her house was crawling
with cats,
but you hadn't determined
her sanity, or
lack thereof
quite yet.
it took a little more.
like the gun
under her pillow.
the whips and chains
beneath her bed.
her fascination with
hitler and Mussolini.
but she was a
vegetarian and cursed
you up and down if
you didn't recycle
your paper and plastic.
that was the tipping point.