So what if we did away with persona?
What if we shed our lambskin for wolfish fur, and a set
of fangs, bearing sharp our desire for blood, deep meaty flesh,
bones, calcium, and enamel?
What if she said “I want you on my mantle,”
a porcelain doll, where you sit collecting dust,
until she decides to brush you off and make you useful?
What if every day she stared in your eyes, and replaced those
sweet lies with a bitter, unpalatable truth?
What if she was cold and uncouth and her words caused
you to shatter, but she just stood in laughter,
mocking your eye as it rolled across the parquet floor,
and when she was done breaking you into pieces,
she put you back together again, buttoned you up,
told you to mind you don’t catch a cold,
kissed you warmly on the cheek, and then stopped speaking
to you again.
In her you might see the softened blush of redolence,
moments of passion, intermingled with tenderness,
only to end in incomprehensible violence.
But, what if, by meeting we didn’t mind the first impression,
and the pink clouds of infatuation were replaced by grey,
What if she said, “I take an enema because I am so
tense and backed up, that my body refuses to expel
it’s own toxic waste?”
What if she said, ‘I can’t let go, I never climax, because
I need to stay in control?”
What if she told you “don’t speak,
don’t move, don’t touch anything, stay very still, like unseen
particles, because I need for you to cease existing at the hour
when my anxiety is most high, which is at night, when
I think I might die?”
If she sat with you over coffee and told you of every
thing imperfect about her, of all her shortcomings,
and solidified reasons for being alone,
then what if she took you home,
and you knew that she wouldn’t touch you,
wouldn’t want you near her, couldn’t bear
the sound of your breath beside her in the bed,
what if she told you these things instead of
pretending to be kind, sweet, compassionate,
What if the sun came with a warning label?
“Might cause cancer, but may also cause flowers to bloom.”
Would we still want to wake up to the daylight?
But we would and we do, we slather ourselves
in u.v protecting cream and admire the beams
as they cut across our field of dreams,
because truth is, we’d rather have flowers
than tumours, so we ignore the signs,
failing kidneys, inability to breathe,
inability to grieve, due to the painted on smiles
we wear like sunscreen.