Right now I feel this jacked up
miscarriage of marriage is your
yoke joke on me and that the
great underlying truth of us is
your satisfaction with my sagging door
and wilted daisy days kept drained by
that good old tight fist-ed chip off
the block mockery and God complex critique
There are times my sky gets so disgusted
by having to internalize its fury that
my clouds need ironing just to keep
from bursting beneath the
condescending air you breathe
Right now I want to find some other
****** up flying circus just to prove
to you how smart you think you really are

Written by Sara Fielder © July 2015