Skirt

I wear my new psychopathy
as a bright red skirt
You will never know
what you have lost
It is impossible to explain
Greed and selfish vices
blanket you in a confused tantrum
I’m just walking in my skirt
careful not to trip, uncaring
I want to be more beautiful,
if now depraved
Shout all you want
Cry
My breaths remain even and quiet
I feel unnatural, even sick,
but free
Rage is red and I wear it all day
I use it to decorate, not vex
Our childish exchanges have aged
I am graceful now
I no longer need to share
I no longer need to listen
When there is nothing left,
there can be freedom, without fear
More than ambivalence,
I have a simple peace
I walk in my bright red skirt
There is no need for amends