Joy Stealer

Is it a light?

No, a spark. 

A twinkle. 

That razzle-dazzle that makes you glow from within and fills every room you grace with radiant joy. 

I. Must. Have. It 

That spark. That twinkle.  That razzle-dazzle. 

That joy! 

It must be mine, but I can't steal it on day one

No

You're too wise for that. 

I must bide my time. 

Take it slow…

Strategic cuts along your psyche

First, every once in a while

You'll convince yourself you're seeing things that aren't there, “I'm tripping,” you'll tell yourself, until it becomes the small voice in the back of your head that doubts what's real and what's not

Oh but I’ll dwell in that doubt, because things are as you perceive them, but each time you ignore the way oxygen gets sucked out of room I get a little bit stronger and your spark, mmm… it flickers and grows dimmer 

But you can't see it because I've spun you round and round like a ballerina in my personal music box of manipulation 

The cuts come quicker now, deeper

You start to question if you even know yourself

You start questioning if you even know love

If you're even worthy enough for love

And that beautiful spark? 

It's mine now.

Displayed on a shelf encased in glass next to the last spark I claimed

I told you she was crazy

I told you, you were different

Same script, different body

And yet the outcome is always the same

Because, precious, your spark is mine

Your twinkle patches the holes in my ego

Your razzle dazzle has bejeweled my life while I've minimized yours

And your joy…

Feasting on it is utterly delicious, as I use the salt from your tears to season the next round of hurt I cook up  

Oh, if only you could see the truth that when I first saw you smile, I saw a challenge

Something to be taken and placed in my trophy case

There it is 

Isn't it lovely now that it's no longer yours? 

Copyright(c) 2025 Rayven Holmes