Splitting

I operate in abundance of extremes, Flirtish to skittish; kind-hearted to mean I am a tolerant bigot or a emotional stoic Yet everyone around me don’t even know it The tug-o-war of conflicting interests Both teams in an endless contest To control my fast twitch reflex Of my best defence; verbal offence. Shutting people down from entering my mind When I see the pity form their beady eyes I don’t know if it’s pride or loathing When my tongue cuts words foreboding the demise and destruction of myself and others But I move forward for my mother and brothers And with the numbers of loved ones that every day grows I need not fret of ever being left alone.