The Bright Side Of Stockholm Syndrome Poem by Raj Dronamraju

It's not my heart beating, it's my fists
Against waves of impact
During a frank one on one talk with extravagance

Coughing in unison, they prance tiredly
Their conflict is finished....for now
That's a noble dysfunction that stays together for the children

You knew what I was about
You saw me at my most tender, my most vulgar, my most pathetic, my most hateful
Now you say you never felt like this before

It's not my head pounding, it's your untempered temper
Talking words that spit to announce meaning, spit in my eye making me wink
A wink misinterpreted, they assume you are in no discomfort

Taking on the identity of the kidnapper
Hair dyed, favorite foods taken as your own
At least the feeling of being wanted is applied as white out
There's pain under liquid paper also the mindless joy of a personality erased