The Love of a Narcissist

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Abstract

o, Wipe away your tears. Ponder aloud your heartache, Loss of so many years.Only company your reflection, As you push everyone aside, Content in your resentment, When it’s you that said goodbye.The abuse you heap is plenty, Although you obviously misunderstand, That emotional blackmail, and guilt, Are all part of your plan.You proclaim your innocence, When you are guilty of all 4 sins, Luring others into your webs, But this is where my torture ends.No one on the other line, No hand to help or guide, I walk away to save myself, This time I will say goodbye.You put the bliss in blister, The soreness of the

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bruise, Oh, how you love to win, And despise it when you lose.If tossed away, the villain, The truth I will confide, That although I was miscast, At least I did survive.The love of a narcissist, Or least what they can feel, Is shallow as a shadow, Are shades of what is real.They sometimes feel something, But usually for themselves, So selfish in desire, That others stay on the shelf.They collect hearts like eggs on Easter, They brag about the broken ones, I leave bandaged, bruised and broken, But at least my trail is done.A warning by D. Wyn. Price, all rights reserved, 2022</article></body>

Poem

Deliberate in your assessment, Delusional of your worth, The feelings of disassociation, Developing from birth.

You coddle your own bruised ego, Wipe away your tears. Ponder aloud your heartache, Loss of so many years.

Only company your reflection, As you push everyone aside, Content in your resentment, When it’s you that said goodbye.

The abuse you heap is plenty, Although you obviously misunderstand, That emotional blackmail, and guilt, Are all part of your plan.

You proclaim your innocence, When you are guilty of all 4 sins, Luring others into your webs, But this is where my torture ends.

No one on the other line, No hand to help or guide, I walk away to save myself, This time I will say goodbye.

You put the bliss in blister, The soreness of the bruise, Oh, how you love to win, And despise it when you lose.

If tossed away, the villain, The truth I will confide, That although I was miscast, At least I did survive.

The love of a narcissist, Or least what they can feel, Is shallow as a shadow, Are shades of what is real.

They sometimes feel something, But usually for themselves, So selfish in desire, That others stay on the shelf.

They collect hearts like eggs on Easter, They brag about the broken ones, I leave bandaged, bruised and broken, But at least my trail is done.