Dream Poem 18 - Hard Like a Lemon Grater

The quivering woman in the depths of despair.
The caramel coloured hare springing gracefully through the field.
“That’s mine”.
I said on a factory production line. A sealed pack of lard from Italy,
So white and gleaming, with herbs on top and the thinnest streak of ham running through it.
The thought of going without him made my heart wring with grief.

Who are you?
My mirror me.
All the emotions and stories are inside out
 And back to front and opposite of what is going on this side of the mirror.
Don’t worry about us, we’ve seen you before.
You are all soft and gentle but we are hard like a lemon grater.
You don’t know how to speak for the fear in your mouth.
We speak freely and as rudely as we like.
Who cares?

You smooth over and placate,
We throw fire bombs of disaster among polite conversation.
You are a milk pudding, we distain like lemon juice
We curdle and part the liquid.
We are the mirror you and do everything opposite to what you would do or say.
We enjoy inflicting emotional pain and hurt – we exult in it
We love disappointment, horror and dis-ease
We love dark and fear and dangerous situations.
You do not.

We laugh when you would be silent
And provoke hurt and prod the sensitive.
We are mischief and mayhem
We love ruining your life and relationships.
Sardonic – yes
Pain giver – yes
Unjustifiable cruelty – yes

And we are
You
Too.

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