Disclaimers:  The characters herein belong to 1013. No harm intended, well, except to alien invaders and my sanity, apparently. Written for the X-Files 'dictionary' lyric wheel. Word received (thanks Jennie) was:

...of my enemy

They talk as if it were new, as if
no one had ever stood against the world
and held
as if you were the first
the only
the enemy
the enemy(you're not)
but that's why you're still alive,
tovarisch

the old men in their smoking towers
they can't control you and they can't distract you and
still yet they cannot kill you 
and so you're
the enemy
the enemy(you're the thorn in their side. You're the one who knows too much and too little, the one that is neither this nor that, up nor down, south nor west. You're the one who'll fight in the shadows but walk in the light, who'll take the bait and follow it past the hand that laid it, walk to where the path runs out and still refuse to stop)
but that's why you're still alive,
tovarisch

so when tomorrow the ruin of their plans
sends fumes throughout their fortress
they'll look to you 
they'll see you: you
the enemy
the enemy(stumbling into the dark and traipsing blithely through the tattered leavings of every failed experiment you shouldn't in a thousand years of hunting find--you're the X-File you hunt, Mulder.)
And that is why you're still alive,
moy drug

Because there is a weapon to use against them
and there is a way to keep them gone
Because you're the one they most want
dead
and you're the one they most want
vanquished
and you're the one still 
here. You're
the enemy
the enemy(you're a tool
to turn in my grasp and 
bite the hand that feeds me)
the enemy
the enemy(a distraction
to take their attention and detour their plotting)
the enemy
the enemy(of my enemies—
does that make you
my friend?)

and laughter scalds
bounced from shadows
and mirth injures
when loosed from shackles
and still they think you're
the enemy
the enemy(as if! I've met the enemy. I've walked beside them and fought beside them, done their bidding and cleansed their messes, all the while shadow-boxing behind their notice, beneath their care. And unlike you, they never suspected
care. And unlike you, they never suspecteda thing)
So they'll smile
and they'll welcome me aboard
and they'll watch the screens they'll 
track you on as once again you're here
when everyone could swear you were there
and they'll not look inside this arm
-- the hollow one you gifted me --
and they'll never see their
death
in vials
iridescent in the night
while they watch your personal ray of sunshine
bringing light to all they've hidden so long in darkness
and they'll talk 
as if it's new, and 
no one has ever pried a world and its 
secrets from their grasp
as if they've never had to flee
before
beforetomorrow
we have a date with destiny,
my friend. So tonight
I'll stand here in the shadows with
my back against the wall
watching you
remembering
sunlight on my skin and
the smell of coffee
before it became just one more reminder
I don't need
I don't need(black and viscous: bitter. Swirling in the cup as though to escape, would it but could. Dribbling over the rim and trailing thick across skin to pool in crevices at the join of wrist and hand; swallowing the light as you swallow it and who wants that, anyway?) So
I'll lurk, and I'll listen, and I'll
mourn the way you talk
as if it were new

It's not. It's only here.
 
 

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