Lotuslands All Die (A Collection)

A Narcissist's Love Letter (Spoken Word Poem)

(A/N: Rough draft. Plan on revising.)

I remember your name.
Like honey on my tongue; the scent of lavender on my nostrils.
You reminded me of home.
You reminded me of me.

When I say your name,
I remember how intense your love for me was; how storybook.
And when I say I love you,
I really mean I love the way you love me.

I'm sorry my parents never taught me how to grow up;
I'm sorry I thought you'd take the place of the caregiver I never had.
I'm sorry my parents never showed me how to love.
I'm a dirty, dirty narcissist.

When I say I love you,
I really mean I'm in love with our story.
When I say I love you,
I know in the back of my mind that I'm still manipulating you.

When I say I love you,
I mean that I love the way my figure glares off your teary pupils;
the way you see me as a monarch, in control of the elements;
the way you treat me, like the deity that I am.

When I say I love you,
I don't really love you at all.
I just love me...through you.

I told you when we met, "Don't fall in love with me."
You refused to believe my sad tales of exes and depression-ruled heartbreaks, for all the hearts I've ever called my own gave out, one after the other: thump, thump...thump.

I told you when we dated, "I can't offer you anything."
You refused to acknowledge that this relationship was one-sided and broken at the core. You didn't want to give up so easily; you loved me too much.

I told you for the third and final time, "Leave me before I do anymore damage,"
and I said this to you as you held me in your imperfect arms, holding perfect, fragile me.

Your imperfect tongue with all its slurs and verbal typos, and yet you could still muster out, "I love you for you."
Your imperfect body with all its cuts and bruises sitting still in bed next to mine made me feel like a tyrant.

Your imperfect everything made me feel perfect.