Barbed Wire Poem by grace mariner

My thoughts of you are tangled in the barbed wire of my baffled mind.
You are in ragged pieces now, not my giant, not my love.
Fragments left, the best parts gone.
The horror of what remains is perplexing.
The extremities along an infinite continuum, black or white,
no shades of soft or steely grey.
Only a damaged psyche can have that lability,
some distortion of thought or character.
You proved yourself as evil my beautiful monster.
I love you no less for it,
but I grieve more because of it.
Those damaged pieces, clinging, decaying,
cannot return to all that you were to me.
That image, that divine design so damaged and flawed,
was the greatest beauty I had ever beheld, perfect in every way.
It exists in this blinding searchlight now in these rotting pieces.
Shredded by your own words, your own actions.
You destroyed yourself to destroy me.
Somehow fitting to let the punishment fit the crime.
No mind is equipped to fathom the irony of it or to
reconstruct something so damaged.
And so I remain disoriented.
Thrown off course and mocked by my flawed perception of reality.
Your face grows dimmer day by day.
But night by night you still come to me...
whole, beautiful...my lovely giant is as he was.
Kind and caring.
You protected me as if I was something you valued.
I struggle daily to be a part of the world of light as I want to stay in
that death like slumber that brings me solace,
that brings me you.
But to live I must face that enemy which clearly shows me you are no
longer in my world, at least not as you were.
You are clearly illuminated, in bits and pieces,
ragged and torn.
I despise you for the damage you inflicted on an innocent.
I want to nurture and comfort you for the damage you inflicted on the guilty,
the damage you inflicted on yourself.
I fear that those pieces, impaled upon that sharp and twisted metal, are
not just leftovers of you, but of myself as well.