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22 September 2010
He tells me he’ll soon be nearby —
an opportunity in case I need
to see him; actually says that.
It’s a win-win (for him). I could give in
and agree, going against my word
and the reasons for it. Or refuse,
and demonstrate madness.
‘Look,’ he will show his friends —
‘my approach: so calm, so kind;
and her response: hysterical.
You can see that, can’t you?’
And they will. They see what he tells them.
Until they don’t, but that takes time.
Meanwhile he proves himself right
again. Why is that such a need?
I used to believe in his sweet reason.
I used to believe we could start over,
get it right finally. But not any more.
In private, the mask always drops.
30 Poems in 30 Days, 2010: 11
Prompt: A poem in which something gets faked or simulated.