Opposition Complex

He approaches you like a tight ball of rubber bands.

Lacking a smile, he greets you with terse resentment.

 

Like the liquid green hue of a flame’s stubborn root,

his eyes shine acid, stinging you with their heat.

 

And you wonder what goes on behind such cruel sockets:

Does he resent you for the person you remind him of?

 

He dismisses your concerns, saying that the stain of words,

splashed across your day, are the least invasive of violations.

 

He claims that the intruder had had every right to enter-

that you are only one side of two stories, you on the inside.

 

He is on the outside and disinterested in your irrelevance,

claiming ironically that your fears are not against the law.

 

And admonishes you for finding fault with the demon

who was once "harmless" but suddenly spells trouble.

 

As he dissects your heart with his doubting gaze,

you realize that he is siding with the enemy.

 

You are up against an ugly beast who hides behind his badge

with all of his stout, bulging, musclebound insecurity.

 

You face him and fight him, and while you don’t win,

you come out even, retreating with a sharp gem of knowledge.

 

Justice. To be served on seedy rye, with remorse on the side.

And a heavy dose of reality to wash it all down.

 

 

Jennifer Burnside

7/28/2014