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The Chameleon

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Below is the poem entitled The Chameleon which was written by poet Constance Gilmore. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.

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The Chameleon

Who in the hell are you?
I'm not sure how to approach you.
Your moods change like TX weather...
What is your mind going through?
You love me so much on Sunday,
Then you tire of me on Monday.
You make love to me on Tuesday,
But don't want to touch me on Wednesday.
We're arguing about yesterday on Thursday,
And we're friends again on Friday.
Saturday is the day I dread the most.
I become no one like I'm a ghost.
The unrecognizable look in your eyes
Always tends to take me by surprise.
You look at me differently and I don't like it.
It's actually quite frightening, I have to admit.
Mentally, you're in a place I cannot touch
My love is powerless and it hurts so much,
More than the fresh bruises on my body.
It hurts because I believe(d) you love(d) me.
The sunrise can't come fast enough.
Tomorrow brings a day that ain't so rough.
The chameleon I love changes colors once again
And the rollercoaster ride is about to begin.

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