Sunday, May 20, 2012

This Cat Fight

i hate the temptress. i wish i could fight her in a match, so i stand a chance in fair play.
but fair is not her game, and i hate her all the more.

i hate it that the whole world believes in her. there is no good thing in her. why, why, do you believe in her? i implore you, will you stop?

i love you, and you love me too. you love me more than i love you too. but why, do you believe in her lies?

there is something wrong with me, she says. i'm not dressed up enough, made up enough. not beautiful enough. i know that that's a lie- but why do you choose to believe in her, and not i?

there must, be something wrong with me, you say. i'm too proud, too principled, inflexible. too idealistic, too stubborn. i love to argue. and that's the reason why no one likes me.

a girl's value diminishes with her age, you say. a girl's happiness depends on who she marry. she tries to say the same thing to me. and i suppose you first heard this idea from her.

more than once, when she was negligent, he took the chance to tell me over and over about the truth in value. that we are valuable simply because we are beautifully and wonderfully made; that our worth does not increase because of what we have: our contributions, abilities, specialties, achievements, power, wealth, appearance, youth, or marriage. neither will it diminish because of what we don't have: our lack of contribution, our disabilities, failures, shame, poverty, outward flaws, age, or single-hood. it is a value that refuses to change no matter.

but you waved your hand off, and said,"why can't you just be more like me?"

i keep reminding myself that this is a battle between me and her. but why has it so often become a battle between us?

and so i hate her her all the more.

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