My heart is heavy,
Am I a bad person?
Am I poison?
My very nature that of a No.4 reactor going wrong,
A walking simulacrum of a mass poisoning,
I hear that I’m an irksome childish contaminant,
Detrimental to any social environment,
I send peoples geiger counters into spasms,

I nick my arms,
Naught but toxic waste oozes free,
Radiation of selfishness and cold indifference,
Sickly liquid noxious to the touch and anathema to goodwill,
Fallout from excess harshness and fatuous sulks,
I fixate upon the poisonous comments of the past,
Upon reflection there is no mistake,
This atomic waste permeates my conduct overmuch,

I cannot deny it,
I require a decontamination,
To cleanse myself of this pollution,
To restore the prudent self I thought I remembered,
I need to be better.

Comments
  1. Carol anne says:

    Hugs 🙂 this was another fantastic poem! ❤

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