There is a half of me that sees 

The world with beauty and with ease. 

There is a half that’s always vexed,

Her world is freakish and perplexed.

They are a mixture, a concoction.

I wonder who brewed such a potion.

Were they an evil mastermind? 

Or just a fool of human kind?

These halves are bringing me much trouble!

They chew and gulp my poor brain’s rubble.

They fight and shout inside my head—

I need to choose one to be dead. 

Kill only one. Make no mistake

So she who wins can overtake.

But who is she? What does she know? 

Are they both bad? What’s next if so? 

Will I be dead? Can I exist without one? 

Do I need two or maybe none? 

What if I’m worse off when they’re dead?

If they are good, what if I’m bad?

Be gloomy. Cranky. Be grumpy.

Be tense. Selfish. Childish.

Be sensual, quiet. Be hungry.

Some days better. Some worse. Never ugly. 

Sometimes happy. Some moody. Some just lovely.

Be cheeky, be precious, be sunny.

Be.

Maybe lonely. 

Maybe lied to.

Maybe cracked. But not broken.

Be in love. With whoever, but first with yourself.

Rub your eyes.

Twist your hair.

Try. Again. One more time.

Swear.

Be.

Thanks for joining me!

I am starting this journey because I feel that I am ready to show myself through my poetry. Let’s begin.