Reciprocal disdain
I was once asked, what's the one thing I despise?
But words faltered, for she, my reflection, listens to my cries.
In the mirror, her gaze sharp, like daggers, meets mine,
A silent dialogue of disdain, an internal sign.
I detest her patience, unrequited and unearned,
Kindness persists, tears withheld, a lesson unlearned.
A heart forgiving, releasing the past's unrepentant grip,
A trait I loathe, an internal conflict to equip.
Her unwavering persistence for love's elusive embrace,
Believing in hearts where skepticism might find a space.
Open to learning, correcting the course she's charted,
Yet defensive, perpetually on edge, guarded.
Scared of friendships, a fear she can't dispel,
Misunderstanding the world, a tale she tells.
Believing in change through explanations, a futile endeavor,
Apologizing, though blameless, a gesture she'll sever.
Her reasons dismissed as mere excuses,
Feeling misinterpreted, a sentiment she accuses.
Sometimes alone, a solitary state,
Concern dismissed, a consequence she contemplates.
Suppressing signs of sadness, a stoic masquerade,
Consistently right, a truth that won't fade.
Undeserved hate cast upon her tender frame,
Trust reserved solely for her, a self-imposed claim.
She despises me most, a self-inflicted plight,
Yet in mutual hatred, comfort takes its flight.
Copyright ©
Abigail Cole
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