Living with a leech
hanging off my skin,
glutted by greed,
contracting and compressing.

A bloodletting,
vile, wiggly weed.
A parasitic pest
I let continue to feed;
something's wrong with me.

Moist regret,
a subtle sucking
draining me on both ends;
it does nothing but gain,
again and again.

Numbs a spot,
waits for a feast,
passes on pathogens,
taking all of the fame.

Living with a leech,
a bully, a beast.
Localize the pain,
but it wants my last drop;
we can’t be friends.

© 2026 | K.F. Hartless

3 responses to “Living with a Leech”

  1. o I love this: the word play, the set up, the transgressive vibe and that metaphor of the leech; bookmarking this: more to unravel 🙂

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Thank you, John. It was a bit of a emotional write. I’m glad I got it off of me, and I truly appreciate your comments here very much.

      Liked by 2 people

      1. I like it when you hit your stride 🙂

        Liked by 1 person

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