He was street smart
I was study smart
I was quick to feel guilty
He was astute in finding faults

I believed in confessions
to undo my faults
He believed in extracting
And felt the purity of power

He counted money with
an enviable concentration
I climbed in to the books
I read and even chose to
live in them

Till I finished with reading
the written word , I could
not even move
The written word held me
with a tighter fist
than him.

I wanted to understand
everything , why leaves were
green ? why the seven seas
capsules were needed ?
Why worms became butterflies ?
Why the first born was often
shorter than the second ?

He merely wanted everything
to serve his purpose.
He was interested in possessions
Houses, Bank accounts, degrees,
a young wife with out
spectacles and normal uterus
and a beautiful smile
Whatever he did not understand
was neither lucrative nor punitive
I was a dead investment
Like a house in which one lives…..

I had to stop loving to live
I did not know to live
with out love either
Transference was an option

Each confession taught me
my errors of omission
habitual defense
I was not the whore he wanted to restrain
I was the innocence that froze
And everyone suspected for being born with
vital statistics and an intelligence
Neither knew its own definition

None had the time nor generosity to
I lacked the guts to experience
Transference a strategy to empower
the other again…..

He never understood my intellect
Yet picked your fault in my confessions
He finally found a guilt
And I had found my innocence

I would never let him punish the
one who made me feel guilty
at least once,
Hence taught me ,
my own stupid innocence
I saved you
Yet you harmed me…..

* A heuristic model to describe the helpless victim, powerful abuser and powerful
rescuer ( 1968) by Liotti.

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