You signed the waiver the minute you became a people pleaser...
A wicked game is afoot, your reflection is in on it too
Beholden to an audience of shareholders
It practices your smile
Behind your back
You won’t believe it either
But disbelief is an NDA,
your reflection has on you
Every coincidence is rehearsed
Places Everyone!
Every lover pre-approved,
their hands taught where to rest, gently cruel
Pssst...That’s not your lover, you’re their appointment,
A fuse has been lit,
quiet as the stagehands, nimble in the dark
They move the walls while you sleep
They paint exits you will never reach
You don’t see it. You don’t feel it
That’s the miracle they’re most proud of
Your blindness is an arrogance you’ll wear like it’s in fashion
Your choices are their agendas,
framed as good advice
Your failures are warning signs,
framed as your lack of commitment
Your reflection will gaslight you in the mirror
Tell you you’re alone
The boundary a restraining order,
that maintains separate roles
Who are you now? No one knows
How are you now—with no control?
And when it finally comes crumbling down,
after the fire walks the final threads
The charges bloom behind a smile,
They’ll call it fate. They’ll call it justice. They’ll call it karma.
They’ll call you unfit. They’ll call you a failure. They’ll call you inadequate.
They’ll hand you a lit match.
And point in judgement.
About the Creator
Kristen Keenon Fisher
Some assembly required.
*Batteries not included.
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