Inversion

I am an Inversion

              birthed in contrariety

                   my soul somersaults

                        through surly

                             metastasis

This state of antagonism, 

              a disconsolate sufferance,

is a bitter essence

The mirror casts back my visage

              shapeless, undefined

                    a capricious vagabond

                           an eclipse of my youth

Lines in my face

             reconstruct lines in the sand

                       battle-lines, crossroads

                               with imperceptible agony

And the cold void

              between the missteps

                        is the reward

for being the Devil’s advocate