The changeling who would not

You misunderstood my stilted words
Thinking I had nothing to say
When I walked in to find my possessions strewn
Clothing, books, letters all sorted
Not by me.
You had looked at every last thing
Decided in my absence, without my knowledge
What was acceptable
I begin to look for this or that, randomly
Certain clothes, photographs, letters and books
All gone
They didn’t fit the picture puzzle you’re building
The play you imagine you live in
For a moment I was hopeful
Till you told me what you removed is gone
Taken to the dump with the rubbish
You beamed a smile
Waited for thanks for your help and direction
I could only nod,  wonder what possessed you
To try and wipe me out
Like a dirty smear on a looking glass
Without a by your leave,
But you didn’t wipe away the memories
You couldn’t do that.
However hard you tried to change me.
Hurt with your array of weapons
You taught me well
To fight back, become as rock
Hard and impenetrable when I have to
Show only what I want to those I can trust
And allow in only a chosen few
Who always have my back.

Ailsa

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Author: ailsacawley

I have written since I can remember, devouring the stories of Roald Dahl under the covers by torchlight. I have always loved fairy tales, myths and magic. A good deal of the things I write has some truth in it. Others, not. I’m pleased you dropped by, please feel free to leave me a comment or if you’re kind enough to share that’s fine. ☺️

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