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False Front

I wish I had a name
for what lurks beneath the surface,
the only thing that’s valid,
true blue,
true to you,
raising my hackles,
filling me with fury,
and compelling me
to poke,
heave stones,
and beat at you
with whatever comes to hand.

I long to see the not-you
shatter at my feet,
broken into dark sharp shards
of phony magnanimity,
false reason
and overwrought compassion.

What would be left then? 
Some fragile, gentle thing 
that I would cherish to my heart,
or a monster?

These are the things I ponder late at night
in my room,
in the dark,
in the narrow spaces of my mind,
and in the tattered remnants
of my soul.

This is a Three Word Wednesday post.

7 comments:

Laurie Kolp said...

Powerful and thought-provoking, Ann.

February 20, 2013 at 12:42 PM
Sheilagh Lee said...

a very thoughtful piece

February 20, 2013 at 12:47 PM
Jazzbumpa said...

Why heave anguished sighs?
Ponder alternatives.
Leaving is valid

February 20, 2013 at 2:06 PM
Heidi said...

Really sad. This poem really captures what it's like to love someone who is bad for you.

February 20, 2013 at 6:41 PM
Alice Audrey said...

Makes me want to do a bit of magnanimity smashing, too.

February 20, 2013 at 11:14 PM
jaerose said...

Reality seems both sharper and more tattered in the middle of the night..a battle in the head..perhaps in full knowledge that come morning the majority of fronts are somewhat false..

February 21, 2013 at 6:56 AM
Enigmatic Soul said...

Packed with emotions. I like the idea that when all the "magnanimity" ha been smashed, what would be left behind? Great work with the prompt. :)

February 21, 2013 at 10:35 AM