The Seduction of Inadequacy

 

There are times when life seems alright

And I can imagine myself far beyond

The confines of this mind-cage

Times when it’s all friends and loveliness and light

Until I see the illusion (or is it delusion on my part to think

I belong? Did I really see that exclusion, or was I wrong?)

And the bars come crashing back into place

The music plays its dolor and so begins

The seduction of Inadequacy

Who looks at me with bedroom eyes

‘Come Hither’ but with barely-concealed

Glints of marble ice

He draws me to himself and hooks me in

Hands grasping

Ripping off my meagre disguise

He stares;

Huge eyes devour me

Cold, critical fingers

Trail down my physique

I shudder, seeing that revulsion

That sneering disgust

With every grab and pinch and probing tweak.

I stand ashamed

Trying desperately to hide in plain sight

Will bluster cloak my pitiful nakedness?

He drags me out, flailing

I am pitched into the bidding ring

Compared to others

The Brains

The Beauties

The Poets

The Wise

Inadequacy stands by

Whispering in my ear

“You’re such a let-down.

See the audience’s eyes

Slide over you

To bid on those far more beautiful ones

Who in their right mind

Would pay to take you home?

Alas, it will be I

Returning full-handed once again

With burdensome, unsellable prize

They don’t want to take you

Make you part of their dreams

Or a player in their games

Let them come to you and cry

And feel the warmth of your childish affection

The wisdom of your narrow experience

Your simple-mindedness will please them

And maybe lift your spirits for a while

Oh they care – and you shall be grateful

Each time they take you from that

Benign toy-box for a dose of glitter

But until you learn to play their games

Until they let you join in

You will stay there.”

Inadequacy smirks, lip curled

“In the meantime that leaves you as my bedfellow

Which is all you’re good for

So at least you’re good for something,

You stupid, repugnant thing.

Now turn your face away

So I can pretend I’m with someone better”

And he flips me

Tumbling my crumbled, tearstained self to the floor

Rips into me, scratching me

Flaying me

Banging and banging away

Making me raw;

Face twisting in the throes of scorn

Before filling me with his bitterness

And delivering a sharp and vicious bite

His ecstasy: my shame, in full view

Now sated at my expense

He feigns affection

Wrapping himself around me

Stifling me, crushing my wooden limbs

Pouring words like poison oil

Across my ravaged skin

Listening to my frenzied, whispered thoughts

Chuckling as though they amuse him

“Oh my little bête noire

Only you could be this incredibly dim

You plan to share your feelings?

What will you achieve?

But wait, I see

You can’t make them love you

So instead you write to gain their pity

Or sanction for your stupidity

At letting yourself again

Become my plaything.

And so with this transaction

You bare yourself

So they might like you more.

With this you earn your stripes

You fallen foul one –

You whore.”