You dropped the words so nonchalantly
that at first I didn’t understand that I had stepped blindly
into a landmine filled space
where I thought I lived, where I thought I belonged
You wore a practised, concerned look
that masked the self absorption
It slipped for just a moment
just long enough to steal my illusions
At first it was like dancing barefoot in the snow feeling free
and independent and edgily rebellious
until the pain soaks through and the burning cold hits your system like a sonic boom
you brace yourself
tensed for flight
yet there is no where to run
I wrestled all night with the resurrected imp who simpered and chuckled and purred over my unworthiness
and asked, incredulously, well, what did you expect?
I want to sleep and dream it away, find a magic wand to change it back
take it back
and leave me my illusions



About chimerapoet

I write. I write a lot. A. LOT. There are times I am half blind with a sentence ricocheting off the walls of my stupid, cant be shut off to save my life, brain. I am miserable until I get it down on paper. Punch it up a bit. Usually cross out half of it. And then breathe. Relax. Only to do it all again..... But I just thought that was me. How I am. Not a writer....noooo...not me. Writers are.....writing people. People Who Write. REALLY write. Write things that matter. All grown up very important things. I am just a scribbler of sorts. And I was/am content with that....if it's true, well then....a scribbler am I. Until the thought wormed its way in to my brain (the furtive sneaky bitch) that maybe...just maybe...that is writing. My style. My strange way. But....still writing. So here I am at the dance. Not sure I know any of the moves and the music is entirely mine. But.....only one way to find out. Would you care to join me?
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4 Responses to Illusions

  1. dearmiracle says:

    How utterly elegant you are in your choice of words, This is powerful stuff, and I could viscerally feel it. I have been there, and this aroused in me memories I thought I’d forgotten. I’ve moved on, but words can sting or they can heal, can be poison or medicine to our souls. However, they come to us, they leave a residue on our lives for better or worse. Thank you for this.

  2. Eilish Niamh says:

    Beautifully, poignantly said. Wow, sounds like you met a narcissist. I almost lived with someone like that, and it’s exactly how you say it is. Grieve the illusion, but healing will happen.

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