Descending

As I watch you so obscenely walking towards me, I'm mesmerized. 

It's as though the worlds beauty has meshed into one being, one awkward albeit perfect being. 

The clock is an hourglass thinly disguised so that life is not discouraged. 

But you look at the clock and you turn it ahead anyways, making time speed up. 

Have I become a pass time? Perhaps an object that allows you to move forward more quickly?

I'm not certain that I enjoy being objectified but the bigger question is where are you off to so suddenly?

To be held, to feel loved and understood. Rare commodities in a busy selfish world. 

You continue to walk towards me, eyes set, face stern. 

Have I upset you? If I have I'm sure I could fix it ! 

Just sit and I'll make you feel special, I'll rub your tense shoulders and kiss your skin gently. 

It's a gift if you will. Or a cry for your affection in return. 

I'm denying you my soul but I will sacrifice every other bit of myself for your pleasure. 

And now I've made an object of myself without a thought otherwise. 

It makes me numb and yet I still do it time and time again. 

Your stride remains slow but strong and your face is still fixed in a scowl. 

And I begin to wonder whether the disgust that sometimes surfaces is for me or for yourself. 

I can't watch you anymore, it's simply unnerving. 

I want to run I want to cry I want to do anything but just sit here. Waiting. 

I can't move. 

Your features soften as you walk right past me with not even a nod of acknowledgment. 

I can't look backwards only ahead. 

Admittedly my features soften eventually too and all is in line once more. 

Except this time you are behind me and don't have power to persuade me. 

This time I am stronger and I am me.

This time I've put my self loathing and judgments on myself far behind me. 

I am moving away from a perfect me. 

I am okay with me.

Oct 2011 Christine Scherger