Recognizing Both

I am racing toward the finish line of positive thoughts Throwing them in front of me in the form of roses. You are marvelous, wonderful, exquisite, delightful…. Your poetry is fabulous, dainty, fine, well-thought out. SCREECH! What the heck am I doing? This poem is the pits. The author must have had a lobotomy or something. I start to write down what I really want to say. Using words I never used before the pandemic. Words like crappy, disgusting, trite, boring, insane, stupid, dreary, and dull. I slap myself upside the head. Come on! Don’t get all Covid-19 on me! My devil side and angel side begin to wrestle. The angel is ahead the first few slaps and bites. But the devil has a hidden anvil, and a knife. I watch in horror, recognizing both as pieces of me.