Hunting for Narcissists

I can hear you scramble behind my neck

Oh, I want to get you

You can touch me with your hands

This is what I want

I haven’t had it for so long

This time seems so slow

Compared to the overdrive of the past

As if there were no other problems

They are only in my head

Sustainably filling the gaps

In my leaking memory

Begging to scrape those wounds off the surface

No one will see it until I describe it

Here and there for your reference

To let you know who I am

A wind-up toy in reverse

I don’t need a scale, I know the stakes

There is nothing as prominent as them –

Narcissists, showing up here and there

I’ll catch them all, count them, calculate

All their movements, straight, right or left

Even the backwards

Though that doesn’t mean anything anymore

Because they never moved on

Never extracted from their childhood

They think being an adult is forgetting

But that’s how real wounds are made

Left alone, not healed, milked

In the shape of an overdone steak

You think you’ve worked on them amply

Look in the mirror – who do you see?

Same face, eyes, lips?

I can only see

A mask, a veil, never a real thing

This is what you finally became

Revealing every possible hint

Of a person without boundaries

Where the only way lies in alternating

Between evil and evil to create

This nonsensical truth you tried to force

Sadly for you, this is no longer my concern

*

October 2022

***

Thank you for reading!