You Make Me Sick – a poem

Graphic of blue sky, yellow sun, pink clouds, and a flying bird.

Graphic by Estela.

You Make Me Sick

Now that you’re gone,
I feel free of fear.

I can relax.

It’s fabulous,
like easing down
into a luxurious
bubble bath.

My shoulders
fall back into place.

This is how it feels
to be safe.

A smile crosses my face.

I feel light as a finch.
The sky is a gorgeous blue.
I love living
without you.

You fucking bully.
You piece of shit.
You didn’t think I’d do it.

I may not know much,
but I truly know you.

Your civil face is bogus,
you vicious brute.
You crave a needy bitch

to feed your famished ego.

Fuck off, jack.
You make me sick.


About Poet Dressed In Black

Poet living in San Francisco. I like telling stories too. I'm an introvert, and I like, need, solitude. I find that depth is a rare quality. Someone once said to me, "You're a very deep person. It must be really hard living like that. Most people aren't that deep." I said, "Yeah. It is hard. It really is."
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