Entrenched in my position,
I think you’re the opposition:
You’re the only thing that’s standing in my way.
My fingers in my ears are sprouting roots,
and I can’t hear a single word you say.

What used to be a fleeting thought
has now become a keeper.
Tiny wishes grow much bigger
as I dig in deeper.

You’re the enemy!
This is a fight!
I will not give an inch
’til you acknowledge I am right!
You’re the enemy!
This is a fight!
Surrender, or you’re sleeping
in the guest bed tonight!

What’s that you say?
You want to hear exactly how I feel?
Well, I sincerely doubt that!
This can not be for real!

Cause you’re the enemy,
I’m sure it’s true!
Stand up and fight!
We’ll spend the night
proving what I know is right!

What’s that you say?
You’re listening,
you’re laying down your shield,
inviting me to lay aside
the weapons that I wield…

But you’re the enemy!
I’m not insane!
If I lay down my weapons
not a trace of safety will remain!

What’s that you say?
You understand me and you want to hear
about my dreams and hopes and thoughts,
about my pain and fear?

Surely I am not the one
who’s standing in my way,
keeping my own hopes and dreams
so deeply locked away.
Holding them so close they’ll never
see the light of day.
Well, maybe you’re not standing in my way.

But how can I be certain
that this isn’t all a ruse?
A manipulation you’ve devised
to find a way to use
my weakness and my faltering,
my strength and my success,
to fill a void within you,
to help you reposses
the certainty that you’ve been right,
the chance for you to show
that I am wrong and pitiful,
while you are in the know.

Yes, you’re the enemy,
so take a shot!
Oh, damn it, now I’m here again,
embarrassed I’ve been caught
thinking you are standing in my way,
trusting in my deepest fears
and not in what you do or say…
I know that you’re not standing in my way…

I’m grateful and I’m scared
as I relinquish my position.
I’m glad to find I wasn’t right:
You’re not the opposition!

You hear my dreams and hopes and thoughts,
you hear my pain and fear,
When I have heard you, too, we are both standing,
both still here.
I turn toward you and turn away
from whispers in my ear…
But he’s the enemy…

© 2001 Emily Melcher