Hyde

I saw her sitting by herself in the periphery; She missed someone I knew was better than me. Two halves don’t make a whole, But two is company, And I’m fair with trigonometry. I don’t care about your boyfriend in Germany. I don’t care about all the baggage you brought over from Florida, Your daddy issues, Your paradoxical self-defeated self-importance, How you’re yesterday’s big news. Please, take off your coat, have a drink, Slip into my ruse. If we’re not so lucky, I’ll introduce you to the person I keep Battered down inside Of me. The side That hides Beneath the wide- Eyed mind Of helplessly Restless nights. I had years of therapists telling me to dig into that God damned clamoring tantrum of self. Of course, the only time I asked for help, I got tenfold pitches for prescriptions; I got a hospital bed. And a broken-record of out-of-time doctors That said it was all in my head. And I wished I was dead. When I was four years old, My mother took me with her when she did men for drugs. Or left me in her apartment, screaming; She said, "Nothing ever shuts up." The magazine says I should consider a new medication, And busy work and meditation. Sweet girl, you probably don’t care for hell; So call to tell him that everything’s swell. In the morning I promise not to dwell. Note to self: If you’re reading this, Please treat yourself well. And quit chasing nightmares That teach you about yourself.