Sometimes… I watch him
I watch him like an informercial
The kind that plays early in the morning
Or late at night
With the man with perfect hair
Whose voice turns ice to honey
And could sell fire to the devil himself
If he wanted to
I watch as he markets myself back to me
Casting a ludicrous light
Exposing gold where I saw coal
Enthusiastically
Softening my rough edges
With his manicured words
Describing how perfect I am
Having astonishing value to him
And slowly I believe him
As he profits from my attention
My mind hypnotized
Walls breaking down
Buying into his dream
Such a paradox;
To dream his dream
And to be his dream
Thus, to dream of myself
And wish for me…to come true.