A different ending for Narcissus

You don’t make an online splash,

But I hear the ripple of wind as you hawk over me.

Pretending like you don’t see it all,

Choosing where your thumbs up go

I’m not meant to know, that you watch me after all.

You wonder why I don’t mention you.

But things that have hurt you,

Events that have impacted you,

And people whose words and actions have harmed you beyond anything you’ve ever known,

Are not things you want to dwell on, dance in, and dawdle over.

I prefer to ignore forget it all.

Your image of yourself is flawless,

But you fail to see the many errors of your judgement.

How the smooth lines of your life are pulled so tight, like a Botoxed face,

Gnawing at the sides, tearing what is naturally there, and creating cracks in it’s wake like the desert ground.

You are actually lucky.

You have more love than you know what to do with

And just as well it comes from obligation

Since you continue to throw it all down the drain.

I feel your judgement, with every word written, and every syllable spoken

I feel it in all my good and bad moments.

And I know what you must say about me, because I’ve heard you say it about everyone else too.

Does anyone think,

Narcissus died not from the perfect vision of looking at himself in the waters reflection,

But in the horror of seeing his inner ugliness portrayed and distorted and swayed to him, that no one else but Mother Nature could show?

Hmm.

Well when you fall, it will be too late.

I won’t be standing by the waters edge, waiting to lend you a hand

I will watch you from the bushes, just as you’ve watched me from a distance, all this time.

You won’t see me, but you may hear my presence,

As a rustle in the trees… and a whisper in the wind…

“Pssst.

I see you.

I hear you.

I know you.

Yes, I know.”

It’s all fine, it’s alright

Keep smiling through all your lies

Tell them what they want to hear

Then turn your back and bash their ear

Give them a sweet name, that always works

But when they need you, you bitch and lurk

You treat them on a scale of 5, but always expect a 10

It’s never you… it’s all of THEM.

Jest guess? but caution over violent breaths.

Photo by Letícia Lua on Pexels.com

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