I wondered how high she could fly.
And how many lies would get her there.
We disentangled forcefully.
A dreadful dance, cut in half.
It had happened before and it would happen again.
The replaced face, character, the superimposed attention.
When you started to mould I walked away.
I had never seen you clearly.
I had transformed you before you opened your mouth.
Maybe I never wanted to know you.
Disappointment, a constant companion.
We would wound each other without realising it.
I don’t know what I was looking for,
Every moment spent with you emptied me.
You were an illusion I created.
I buried all the red flags.
I rendered your intentions angelic.
And crawled into you to hide from the world.
Become a part of something, someone.
Unleash who I truly was.
I didn’t understand that I repeated all the patterns.
Until you imprisoned me.
And I recognised a familiar signature.
I came close to the devil once more.
“Las hijas del Rey Lear” by Gustav Pope (1831-1910)
Croque-Melpomene 