Reverse Psychology
You are an enigma,
only found hidden under leaves.
A colour in the rainbow still unseen.
Fate has formed your mind into a revolving door,
without pressing the buttons,
it remains like dead seeds,
so I became your gardener to help you blossom -
perceiving you will flourish into the rarest rose.
Only you can soothe me from your thorns.
You are a sleeping volcano, sometimes senseless,
irritated by every polish to regain consciousness.
When embers ignite within your enraged eyes,
fragile flames spiral into bitter bonfires -
visible from scorching scars on my soul.
I always wonder
is this the last time I adorn my armour,
as I follow you into your internal inferno,
hoping your fulvous frenzies
are temporary like the last star.
You are a master in your art,
but I'm an alchemist with your secret ingredients,
so I tug your strings in reverse,
but never leave you dangling in a
disorderly drunkard manner,
because you are a unique, untouched gem.
Words are vortex to your heart,
so I summon silence to keep you on the edge,
but before you fall, I'm there to catch you.
You insist it's ebony, when it's ivory,
so I tell you to go left, knowing you will go right
and when you say you cannot write,
I Whisper secrets to the wind,
aware they'll carry to you like a typhoon.
As you vent, your metaphors manifest the
honesty behind the poison in your veins.
Suppressed emotions become poetry.
When you imply, I do not feel
and you are hellbent to hurt,
your wrath leaves me hanging like a punch bag,
yet I never aim back, knowing calmness heals.
I can tell you it's the final spring,
or I've laid down my shield and sword,
but you are unable to halt the slaughter,
until the sour aftertaste becomes pleasant,
so I place sugar cubes, slowly on your tongue.
I was born to take the stones out of your heart.
In this cognitive warfare of intellect and logic,
where you push and I pull,
there is only one winner, no sinner,
as in your quest to prove me wrong,
you succeed and that my love is
reverse psychology.
|