Passive Agressive

I am not immune to displeasure 

To sadness, malice, or neglect

My flesh is weak

And my will has been known to yield

Before impertinences

(I’ve resigned to these contusions)

But before I fall

I shall condemn those

For whom I have expatriated myself

Into seclusion

Through verbal obtrusion

Like a parasite

That gnaws viciously at rotten fruit

Except that the stench will not be of citric decay 

When these parasitic words

Make an empress of me

And a mess of you