The Art of Diametrical Opposition

Devious and charming, beguiling and alarming,

You stormed in and gently spoke.

Kindly and insidiously, caring and selfishly

You built me up as you tore me down.

How did beautiful become hideous

and intelligent, dumb?

.

You lied and called me your home

even as you were only passing through.

You settled down but never took up root

in the earth you claimed you were bonded to.

How did want become brute force

and partnership, possession?

.

You liked that I was independent

but were disgusted that I was stubborn and headstrong

and my self-governance was only beneficial

if you could bend it to your will.

You adored when I spoke

but only if I remained silent

to hide the darkness you worked in the light.

.

I was perfect-

you swore wouldn’t change a thing-

but only when you had erased

and over-written every last part of me

When did I lose my sense of self

and mirror your preferences instead.

How did unique become eclectic,

then a rogue to be subdued?

.

You spoke confusion about a tender touch

while your brute force ravaged me with bruises

overwhelming me with affection

that burned like fire with every impact.

How did love become hate,

and appreciation, scorn?

.

You were inspired to guide me to grow

but led me blindfolded to edge of the cliff

and dangled me over with one hand slipping away.

Words fell from your mouth speaking of faith

but you let loose your grasp and watched me in free-fall.

How did trust become deceit

and truth, lies?

.

You stood at the edge and watched unaware,

amazed at the efficiency of your plunder of me.

Arms crossed, a smug look of satisfaction

crept prematurely across your face,

and the winds stirred and protested,

the earth shook and groaned,

and a deluge burst forth beneath your feet

and that false security was washed away.

When did the emptiness and despair

that dwelled within burn and crumble

and give way to hope,

a yearning to be free?

.

How did the silence shatter

and fill the air with the booming of my voice,

rendering you mute in your madness?

.

How did hate become love,

and fear, security?

.

But after so long why hasn’t this one thing changed,

reverted back to its normal state and released its grasp on me-

the warped sense of self

the funhouse mirror

in which I find no amusement at all-

the inability to see,

the unwillingness to perceive

which is the real me?