Life, poetry

Sickening

Sickening

It’s sickening,
the way power wraps its hands
around the throat of truth,
how it carves the human from the human,
leaving hollow shells—
not because they’re empty,
but because someone decided they should.
 
They speak with forked tongues,
laced with venom,
dripping with words
that strip the flesh from bones,
that turn warm bodies into shadows,
into something less,
something other,
something distant enough to destroy
without the weight of conscience.
 
It’s sickening,
how they mold fear like clay,
how they shape hate like steel,
how they take the human heart
and crush it underfoot,
not with force,
but with words—
words that twist and gnarl,
words that eat away at the soul,
words that turn neighbors into enemies,
families into threats,
people into pawns.
 
They strip away the skin,
layer by layer,
until all that’s left is a caricature,
a grotesque reflection of their own fears,
their own insecurities,
projected onto the innocent
like a mask they never asked to wear.
 
It’s sickening,
how they dehumanize,
how they turn flesh and blood into targets,
how they erase the heartbeat
and replace it with a number,
a statistic,
a nameless, faceless “them”
that justifies the unforgivable.
 
And the world watches—
some in horror,
some in indifference,
some in quiet agreement,
because the sickness spreads,
infecting minds,
twisting perceptions,
until the monstrous becomes mundane,
until the unacceptable becomes policy,
until human beings are no longer human
but obstacles,
but problems to be solved,
but lives to be erased.
 
It’s sickening,
because it’s calculated,
because it’s intentional,
because it’s so damn effective—
not in making people less human,
but in convincing others that they are.
 
And when power dehumanizes,
it doesn’t just break bodies,
it breaks the very fabric of our world,
tearing at the seams
until nothing is sacred,
until nothing is safe,
until nothing is left
but the hollow echoes of what we’ve lost.
 
It’s sickening,
because it doesn’t just destroy the dehumanized—
it destroys us all,
piece by piece,
soul by soul,
until there’s nothing left
but the sickness itself,
a poison we’ve all swallowed,
a nightmare we can’t wake up from.

(2024, © Julia Delaney)

"Sickening" poem by Julia Delaney

Be Alive 🌱
Love ❤️, Julia

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