Now that’s a feeling altogether too familiar.
An intermittent visitor, almost familial.
But that’s the thing about bad feelings.
They trouble you only when experienced meagerly.
An overdose confers you with immunity.
In my case,
I’ve come to accept it,
Now I never feel miserable.
No, no, don’t get disheartened yet.
I know you did your best to never leave me devoid of it.
But rather than it poisoning me,
I have made it my venom.
I can unleash it.
Like a personally forged weapon.
That’s how tables turn, you see.
And now you can call me
There’s a beautiful song by Elliot Smith with the same name as this poem. Some of you might remember it as the song that plays during the end credit scenes of Good Will Hunting. I’m popping it’s link down below in case you fancy a listen. As always, thank you for reading! I’d love to hear what you think of it (both the poem and the song).