Ailments of Affection

A free verse poem

(Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash)

Insecurity is an ugly thing

seeping like a sickness into

the most sound mind,

spreading through thoughts

like small pustules

from a progressing plague

we thought we’d cured.

Fear runs high-

a fever for which there is no cure

a spoon full of reassurance

just isn’t enough anymore,

for your heart has built up

a tolerance to kind gestures

and small talk.

The only reasonable remedy

is to flee from your feelings,

for passion propagates pain

and vulnerability is only a virus.