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.

allusiondarkdepressionhorrorhurtrhyme

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