The Emotional Orphan

You came as Angel of Mercy,
presented yourself that way.

Energized touch as if
powered by something greater than
I could understand then.
I knew I could.
I craved that understanding.

You made me work hard
to enter your inner sanctum.
Once in, I saw the hope
I had longed for.

I felt the reason
I needed to carry on.
I needed those things right.
You gave them freely.

I felt certain
I would never know
the basic joy of a home
before there was you.

You validated my existence,
my maleness,
my need to share
all the good in me.

You knew I was at my best
when giving not taking.
And I gave all I had.

There are those in this world
who will use all you have
exposed in trust against you.

Sharing your secret fears
is a dangerous thing to do,
but in my zeal to be the man
I want to be, the one you said
you needed and wanted,
I had no choice.

For us to fight the demons
of this world as a team,
for us to have that one person
we could always depend on,
left me no option but to
practice brutal honesty.

There are others in this world
who are so scarred
from events in their lives that,
consciously or not they believe
nothing but pain, suffering, and the negative
are all they can ever expect.
It’s sad but they also are
sure it’s all they deserve.

They believe in the illusion
of happiness and success,
and they pursue it with vigor.
Sometimes, they come dressed
like Angels,
Saviors,
Royalty.

They have a secret belief
about their fate, though.
That the one constant will
return again one day,
and their sentence to
self imposed martyrdom will begin.
Again.

They see people around them
who have hope,
who have had glimpses of the truth,
and who work very hard ,
not to build illusions,
but to build a reality.

A reality based on hope,
and glimpses of
the true nature of life.

And they hate them.
They hate them for
destroying the illusions,
and exposing the fallible
nature of their defenses.

They will run if they can.
If they cannot,
they create backup plans,
seek allies receptive to their
illusory presentation,
and begin to reinforce
their illusions elsewhere.

When the big bang comes,
they will have shelter and co-signers
to the fact that the reality makers
are evil.

They set about destroying them.

I have come to believe
that is what happened to us.
You became an Angel of Death
based on the scars of your past,
and our rapidly approaching success.

Happily ever after wasn’t
just a fairy tale anymore.
It was a realistic possibility and
you came to hate me so much
your job became to kill me.

You almost succeeded.
My spirit is mortally wounded.

I am fortunate though.
Even though I am truly dying,
as sad and untimely as it may be,
I have managed to hold on
to the one thing
you may never have–hope.

I weep when I think about it.
I tried to give it to you
but your instincts and
damaged defenses rejected it.

Beware.
There are those out there
more cynical than I
who wont give you
the benefit of the doubt.

They will chew you up
and spit you out.
They will come to you
as Angels of Mercy,
present themselves that way.
Spark and all.