Benevolent

Bending,

Twisting,

I move my body unnaturally at the edges of your being,

writhing in response to your movements

in

and away.

I watch, hawklike, for a sign of approval

that rarely comes.

Like a dog that hasn’t learned to find food on its own,

I wait outside your house until the meager nourishment comes,

Devouring it,

and wait again.

I have got to be alone with myself,

I have got to escape your unfocused eyes!

I didn’t want to make you like this,

But it was done long ago.

You were a god before I was born—

benevolent, 

unwittingly the center of my incapable mind—

but ultimately

Uninterested.

I tear, rip, and break at the seams where independence meets identity,

a lover unrequited,

and it would be strange to see you do the same.

I pull at my silk chains but all they do is give me paper cuts.

I have got to be alone with myself,

have got to escape your kind, powerful eyes,

Your benevolent gaze.

-Sarah Sanders, '12