You greeted me with open arms,
Happy to have a companion in this world.
At times, joy arose like a flame
That attracted moths with its light.
The image was perfect.
You would rise in fury
When the last of what should have been yours
Was left devoured
Or if I broke something by accident.
It upset you, so I apologized,
And then the joyful atmosphere resumed.
Sometimes, I get tired and weary,
And so I sigh to relieve the tension.
Or I try to defend my innocence
During a debacle.
That draws ire from you, apparently,
So you mock my voice,
Something that happens in arguments
Whenever I try to defend myself.
I apologize for my actions,
And my behavior is changed for the better.
The images of hands playing with its toy,
Disposing of its broken form when the warranty expires,
Are what keep me awake at night.
Your philosophy of being honest with yourself
Showcases who you are,
So unique in your flawlessness.
Henceforth, if I have an ambition,
A dream, a love, a desire,
A belief about a happening in my life,
I’m discouraged, for I am “delusional” or “pathetic”,
As that is not what you want.
I try to scream “no” to help myself,
But the word comes flying back into my ears.
Sometimes on repeat like a broken record.
One apology later,
One more “I’m always wrong” later,
and your back to contentment,
And I, delusional as I am, am losing a piece of myself.
So long as it means stability.
Eventually, the warranty expires,
And you dispose of me and my pieces.
Other hands try to explore my mind,
But I manage to escape into the open.
Those who try to drag me into the darkness
Claim purity and innocence.
I can’t attack them myself,
Not because of their purity,
But to preserve that
Which still holds me
In one piece.
The pieces, surprisingly,
Despite hanging on to each other
By possibly a spaghetti noodle.
I find myself a little more wary,
But time permits me
To see the light of others
A little more clearly each day.
Despite the shadows,
I can feel the joy returning,
My body healing itself.
I’m not sorry.