Saturday 25 October 2014

O Cunning Enemy

I can feel his eyes caressing my face with a loving stare. I keep my eyes down on the printed words in my hand, careful not to move a muscle in my face. Thats what en's looking for, a momentary lapse, a crack in my carefully moulded mask that will drop a hint of an emotion. But i'm well trained, my face gives nothing away but still i am afraid, it seems the more i resist outward emotion the closer he seems to get. I sneak a glance, i'm right. He is staring intently at me, eyes searching with that knowing smile of new understanding. anger bubbles up inside me, why can't he be driven away like every other. Give up and leave me in my sanctuary. But no, he's different, dangerous. he won't give up.

I hate his stubbornness, his patience. Slowly eroding away the concrete walls of my emotions. His voice enticing me to disclose my thoughts to him. He does not know the dangerous path he is trying to lead me down. Stitches can only hold so many pieces of a heart together, mine is surely bend repair. I can feel the tape peeling and the treads straining even now. One slip, that's all it takes to unravel a tapestry, smash a vase.

I take a breath in and muster another glance, this time he looks straight into my eyes. I'm caught like a rabbit in the headlights. My emotions roar and naked for him to see. He's to close, far to close, i try to pull away but his gaze holds me captive. This was his plan, entice me to look and catch me off guard. So strategic, plotting, scheming.he's trying to break me, leave me with the splinters of my porcelain heart scattered across the floor.

He gets up and i watch him draw closer, i try to back away but my body holds fast,then his arms are around me. He burns through the white emulsion paint, he pulls me closer and the walls crack and tumble. The emotions, like a stampede fill my mind and blind me. They spill from my eyes as clear, salty blood. They break from my mouth as whimpers. He just holds me, as if he had for told this victory, this surrender. He had seen my weakness and cut away my armour leaving it bare and exposed, ready for his final blow.

I realise then, its to late, i've lost. My heart so bruised has given up, letting the mind guide it to safety or the slaughter house. I admit now, i hate it when he's with me and yet crave his company when he's not. The civil war within my body is for his viewing now, no amount of mortar can rebuild these walls. I am a fallen worrier, at the mercy of my capture, waiting for the bullet. But he surprises me with a kiss laden with love and i fall, like he new i would. O Cunning Enemy.




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