It’s a man-a-phobia
No relationships
Thinking of you
Any of you
Makes me so sick
Being with you
Waking up to your body
Waking up to your smell
The smell of a man
A man in his entity
A man that is me
Not my true counterpart
But the one I have chosen
A fake, a phony
Not the real “one and only” –
It makes me sick to my stomach
Sick to my gut
Churning and twisting horribly
I want to throw up my intestines
Feel the bile in my throat
It sickens me
Sickens me
Sickening to be –
It’s an uncomfortable lurch of the stomach
A dull poison of the gut
The gut-squelching feeling – sickening
Sickening to be –
The sick, smiling, pale discomfort
Morning in a pale white light
Cool air, early dawn
With him smiling right at you
Your trap, your enclosure,
He is your world
He is everywhere,
Sickening you, in your veins
Your gut sickens at his smile.
To know someone,
To be someone,
To be him,
Him, him, him,
It’s the most sickening, disgusting,
Bile churning in your gut feeling
Of no escape.
I’m trapped in him
In his world of gray.
I am his gray.
His delicate features,
His small, secret smile,
So personal, it knows me, smiles into me;
Oh, God, it brings up the bile!
The air we breathe
Each day, each moment,
Seeping through my skin
Bland corruption,
Fresh and pure;
Your trap, enclosure
Pulls you down
Into the dark
The dark and gray
Of him, the gray that’s him,
The air, the everywhere is him
And there is no escape.