Selfish

Soft heart, beware: those pretty blue bruises
We are the same, adorned with different colored paper
Sensibilities on hyper-tension
We watch the same painting, enthralled
And yet I see nothing but the sky
And he, nothing but the sea

I am Venus, he Mars
4 days a week
I am Mars, he, Venus
A blessing and a bane

One look and a mouthless voice screams
“Independence!”
I am a strange bird
Loved: the pretty feathers! Mars-like quality!
Novelty that soon wears off

And along with the newness dies the indulgence
I am now: cold, heartless, uncaring, selfish

Once sugar-coated in brilliant feathers
Now an ugly monster
Shunned and feared

My only mistake
That first responding smile
My person, intact
My vision now skewed.