To my Narcissist,
I want to see beauty in life again.
Feel the heights of tree’s towering over me.
Hear the ethereal sound of my own voice, rushing over the hearts of listeners.
It was my passion, my feeling, my strength,
That would draw people.
When our voices met, there was no lie.
There was no story. No past nor future.
You and I both shaken to the core.
That fearful thing.
Outside of it, we warred.
Simultaneously pushing and pulling.
The games alive and well.
You presented that fearsome beauty, intended to be my rival.
But she cowered in my presence.
She changed and changed herself.
Her appearance, her persona.
Hoping not to pale in comparison.
She fed you vulnerability, brokenness, control.
And I watched.
Ever broken but never feeding.
The one gift I cannot give to you, is power over me.
Though I may want to, it cannot be done.
Though I lie, and feign to be over powered, you know better.
The chase continues.
You cannot over power the sea, but you can swim in it.
You cannot darken the sun, but you can bask in it.
You cannot make me voiceless, but you can sing with me.
So here I remain.
Hurting, but whole.