October Gray Poem by Mona Adviento

You see me in such somber light in puzzling shades of infuriating grayness.
It may seem naivete, yet you say it's the stubborn wall of denial.
Over and over and over again, you hurl your lightning bolts and over and over again,
I stand, perturbed and hurt and ultimately, unchanging.

Impeccable whiteness in my head, untarnished, unblemished, totally blameless.
A perfect picture of pedigreed patience, built by years and layers and white lies. Dark and rusty mirror, I hate its face. It reeks of blame and shame and confrontations.

I probably put them all in a black box, locked them all and threw away the key.
I keep saying over and over and over again, this is not me I am not me.
Our encounters force me to stop and look at myself. Really look
Without the trappings, without the defense mechanisms, without the layers of self-preserving half-truths.

What do I see after all has been stripped? Am I really able to go past the self-veneers and really look at myself, really see myself from your eyes?

It does not meld well with my self-concept. It seems such a stark contrast and it's quite unbelievable. Yet that is what you see. That is who you see. And I wonder if the me you see is the real me.

I have this thought of you. And it keeps getting in the way. I wonder what will happen if all the fetters are gone. So overly sensitive soul. I bleed tears with your accusations. Yet maybe there is a ring of truth. May be I am really a stubborn idiot.

Yet I feel that I am always wrong. That you always see something wrong. And I am in reality, totally unsure,

Do I cling to this idea of me? Do I let go and embrace what you see in me. I am absolutely petrified of what I will find.


October 2013
Chapter V