Am I using him perhaps
Am I using him perhaps
to reassert myself,
to gain that sense of confidence,
which I think I can’t afford,
by getting him to pay
the price of pride, on my accord?
Does he spot the robber here,
holding hostage all the lives
that he could have sought?
Or are we what he says we are:
Already bleeding, both of us,
hit by bullets that we bought
and fired with the guns
of the unyielding law of love?
But if he’d known that I’ll always care
more about what is not yet there,
would he still raise his hands
and hold, against the sky, my plan,
my aspiration to become
the person I think I could be?
If I only knew how to love someone else.
Someone, other than myself.
Yet if all we’re living for
is to make each other fall…
I find it hard to separate
what is done out of selfless love,
from that which we do
because we need to feel loved.
Or am I using this accusation
as another narcissistic self-justification?
