Best Girlfriend Boyfriendself Poems
Trapped in Xanadu
An empty castle
A lonely existence
That is a constant reminder
Of your anorexic heart
That’s starving for love
Dying to belong
Yet, fitting in nowhere
Living without purpose
An empty shell
Depleting the world of it’s oxygen
Unable to contribute because
Something is missing inside you
Your blackened corridor
Just a self loathing punishment for the sadistic masochist
That hides in his box to avoid self discovery
Your well of happiness will always run dry
Peering outside
Watching the twinkle in the eyes of the soul mates
Knowing you will never experience the beauty of true love
But, failing to comprehend the reason why
Hearing the sweet, innocent laughter of children
That you will never have because you’re
Too narcissistic to love unselfishly
Looking for fulfillment in places
Where you will never find it
Loveless, a lonely road
On which you have chosen to travel
In which you will draw your last breath alone
Without your Susan Alexander Kane to hold your hand
You are the master of self aggrandizement
You have forgotten how to be in the wrong,
Manipulation is your art,
Insidious word-play, gentle put-downs,
Reminders of all my failures are your tools,
I am the dartboard,
Peppered with your sugar-tipped barbs
You push me down with such skill, such grace,
I can barely feel my feet sinking through the floor
And before I know it I’m up to my chin in mud
But still bound to you by my love,
A coiled quicksilver chain
I’ve learned a few tricks along the way, sure
I’ve absorbed the art of soul-scarring, with a smile
I emulate your gritted-teeth cruelty,
Your tender slaughter of self esteem
But the student has not yet surpassed the master
You slice my frailest longings, you mangle my melting heart
And then you kiss the oozing sore you opened
You paper over the cracks with a concerned comment,
An off-hand ‘I miss you’
You mortar the raw bleeding gaps with tenderness,
But in the dead of night, when truth weighs heavy on my chest,
I lie in bed alone and cold, and wonder how much of it is true…
And how much of that affection really comes from you