CRIPPLED FRIENDSHIP

I guess you thought you knew me then,
way back then, when I didn’t know myself;
and if I did, I kept it hid, a tight lid – sealing a sensitive soul.

It wasn’t the real me, I was someone else you see.
The real me was deep inside, not yet crystallised –
a pupa waiting to metamorphosise.
So what you saw, was probably more, of an image of yourself.

I was a mimic then – a chameleon changing colours to suit the occasion.

Inevitable circumstances split us and in time, distance yielded a new me.
I discovered my soul, my intrinsic self, the one I was meant to be.

But destiny mocks the status quo and now you’re here again –
a challenge to the new me.

Mixed feelings coagulate into a heavy solid mass.
And as I surrender to the weight of nostalgia,
I feel a fraction of my new self disappear.

With a part of me gone, portions of my former self surface,
as our greeting convolutes to the narrow flue of our common past.

We were similar then, both lost in a fog of grog.
Mental midgets and emotional cripples in a cultural vacuum.
A slurry of dribbling monologues and sloppy embraces of mateship.
Things said and forgotten, repeated and gone rotten;
our true identities locked in bottles of booze.
Embracing each day in the same way as days before,
saluting to a drink – that alcoholic fluid that reminds us of who we are.

Deja vu! A second in time freezes my life to a moment.
Like a slap in the face you reflect my former self,
revealing the seeds we’d sown and how much I’ve grown,
while you stagnate in the stench of mediocracy.
Time, it seems, has taught you naught. I see you still drink to much –
a convenient crutch for a dominating tongue.

The comparison jolts me to the reality that I am on my own,
while you resurrect exaggerated tales of our youth.
Pathetic stories retold with twisted truth, as if this moment does not exist,
just the past – our bond – a sticky glue that holds us together.

Do you not see, that which is obvious to me – the truth –
that we no longer see eye to eye –
that our friendship is based on a lie.

And, if you cannot see, the new me, what would the purpose be,
to explain myself the thee.

In a vain attempt I try to articulate a deeper thought.
Expose my new self. But when I hear you scoff at noble thoughts and deeds,
and jeer at others needs, I stop, I no longer care.
Just pathetic memories – visions of a cripple and me walking with a limp.

That is why it’s time to say goodbye to you and me
and the futility of our unity. You never were my kind,
you just stole my precious time and raped my mind.

I’m now on a different plane, no longer playing your game.
I’ve found my own place, at my own pace, in control and out of the rat race.
And, no longer walking with a limp.