Manipulative

Just as I think I’ve grown immune to your maneuvers

You up the anties, and here I am again

On my knees, in tears

Wondering what I’ve done wrong to deserve such treatment

Your strongest weapon of all

Is your seemingly docile demeanor

Your apparently endless patience, kindness and gentleness

But that’s a mask

That you remove only when those you hurt the most can see

Only when they’re ready to forgive and forget past wrongs

It’s no coincidence that they’re also the ones who love you the most

No coincidence at all

We’re isolated in our kinship towards you

As the recipients of your choicest torturous moves

How fitting

That we should count ourselves lucky to have you for all to see

And curse our closeness to you when nobody’s looking