It seems another john doe
dealing with a loss of identity
Going from ten to point zero
l guess a split personality
Im asked wheres mr alter ego
That bloke where now is he?
As now l just feel like a shadow
Of someone that l used to be
That person l nolonger show
People they don't nolonger see
Because him l refuse to show
What was the other side of me
Bits taken from inspired by poems troubled
Soul,shadow of doubt written end of 2020...
I found the first letter under my pillow,
in ink I recognized before I recognized the words
my own hand, but steadier.
Braver, somehow, in the loops of the y.
Dear diary, it began, in my handwriting,
though I keep no diary that anyone else could find.
It knew things I'd only thought at 2a.m.
It knew the name I never say out loud.
I caught it once, in the lamp-light,
bent over my desk in the shape of me,
holding a pen the way I hold a pen,
writing something I would never have the nerve to send.
I didn't stop it.
I think some part of me left the desk lamp on
on purpose, that night
some part of me that wanted to be spoken for.
It signs my name better than I do now.
No hesitation in the final stroke.
No crossing out. No starting over.
Just my name, sent, sealed, and meant.
Last week I found the final letter,
already folded, already addressed
to the one person I never worked up the courage to tell.
At the bottom, in handwriting identical to mine, it said:
I am you, but the part of you that stopped waiting.
I hope you don't mind. I already dropped it in the mailbox.
By the time you read this,
it will already be theirs.
The pristine white bride
gracefully glided down the
aisle toward her sharply
dressed, eagerly waiting
groom.
A sudden, violent gust of
freezing air violently
shattered the stained- glass
windows of the church.
The delicate white lace of
her bridal veil rapidly
decayed into a swarm of
black spiders.
Horrified wedding guests
shrieked as the pews
suddenly transformed into
rotting wooden coffins that
snapped shut.
The smiling groom unhinged
his jaw, swallowing the screaming
bride whole before the altar.
Die to yourself
Pick up your cross
Thy heart deceives
Die to yourself
Listen with intent
To Word received
Die to yourself
Lay burdens bare
upon the alter
Die to yourself
Hands folded
when you falter
Die to yourself
Crestfallen at His feet
Die to yourself
Rinse, lather, and repeat
Why is my face split in two?
A twin I call her
Confident and beautiful
Funny and entertaining
Her smiles light up every room.
A life of the party
Excellent in every word.
A frown I like to wear
I leave the smiles to her
It suits just one of us.
I think I'm not that pretty
The face we share says different
And even when people tell me
I think they speak of her.
I hate when people see me
They want me to be her
They expect charm and charisma
And then my jokes fall flat.
I'm in my head a lot
Thinking how to become her.
Never together we are
Always one at every time.
I cannot talk about her
And she herself can't too
Cause then people would notice
She's one and I'm the same.
A person I created
To make myself feel safe
But then she turned out
Better than I ever was.
But only in her shadows
I find the solace I seek.
And I hope that maybe someday
She's all that I'll become.
MULTIVERSE ME*
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
What if I've lived the exact present I’m living now before,
doesn't it make sense to think of it as though...
there is another part of me in another universe,
going through the same thing?
Should I believe in the multiverse theory,
for I cannot prove that we are not alone.
Should I believe there is a reason why
just because I feel the skies talking to me every night?
Should I believe someone's message is reaching me
through the beams of the moon every night?
My skin soaks in the possibility
like a flower blooming, drawn to the light.
Do you ever think of a time difference
between one universe and the other?
What if I am born here on Earth and after I die,
my soul travels to another universe
and relives the same story?
What if...
I am a piece of my own soul
which is split up and placed
in different universes?
Is this the stuff of science fiction,
or is it non-fictional, a reality waiting to be explored?
*this poem (originally titled "Alterverses") was published in Sci-Fi Stir Fry Anthology, William Mays editor/publisher July 2025.
You only feel the pain when the blood runs true
One more lash opens your heart
Hear the beat
Thumping
I’m inside you
Cruel
But you wanted change
I’m your alter ego
Tearing down your barricades
Against the wall
You scream
It’s what you asked for
Tears and blood
Now I’m the animal
Unashamed you cry
Your pleasure
Naked and bleeding
You place the whip
I release your passion
You want more
Now I’m bleeding
Walking the line
Tortured in mind
You are free
Liberated.
my alter ego
I neither deny nor hide
I let it loose abundantly
Red on the marble floor
a silent witness to the horror
Her blood pools at the altar
a stark testament to my sin
Her body lies lifeless
once so full of grace
Now broken bruised
deprived of love’s embrace
I stand frozen
disbelieving
the weight of what I’ve done
crushing me
A priest’s collar tight around my neck
a smoking gun heavy in my hand
She came to the chapel seeking refuge
seeking solace
She found only death
I was meant to guide her
but instead
I took away her breath
The red at her feet spreads
a stain that no prayer can erase
My footsteps echo loud and hollow
as I flee into the shadows
the shame following close behind
I never meant for this
I swear it wasn’t part of any plan
But now I’m a murderer in the house of God
a broken damned man
They call it a crime of passion
a moment of rage
but those words mean nothing
She’s gone
Her life ended by my hands
and no confession can turn the page
And now here I sit
on death row
counting my final breaths
haunted by the altar I defiled
by the blood I spilled
Her face her voice
they never leave me
My soul is stained
eternally lost
forever chained
to the altar of my hate
I asked my alter ego
Why I’m so tired today?
It says that’s not illegal
Stay tired if you may
I said but I don’t need to
I want some energy
And you don’t seem to do
Any support for me
My alter ego smiled
Calm down you naughty boy
The reason you are tired
Is what you should enjoy
Your working days are over
And everyday’s the same
Your time is going slower
Your thinking’s getting lame
When with a glass of wine in hand
You let the music flow
You’ve lots of energy, my friend
For what you need to know
You’re rolling in exuberance
Filled up with dopamine
And in this dream so many lives
You lived, and still you’re in.
I was a child, peering down,
down into my soul’s abyss,
a sterile kingdom by the Dead Sea.
She was also a child, my loveless alter ego
a glass jar not even half full.
Our love was too vacuous to harbor affection or hope.
My alter ego, Lissa Marie.
She was a child, peering upward, upward,
delving more deeply into my spirit’s stunted reach.
The proverbial babe in the woods was she,
harboring the dour rude awakenings
of the great prophets and sages.
She stirred in me all that is sacred,
and inspired and true.
Yet her flame diminished
into smoldering embers—no Phoenix rising.
She departed as she entered, a demure lady.
She came to me as lady light,
departed as lady death.
I shall retain my love for her, my
alter ego, 'til my last breath
Our souls entwined
Yet the angels show their jealously
So divine was she, coequal.
Her essence upon me,
love worn weary,
I’ve become one
with Lissa Marie.
There it is -
a giant lizard
or is it only
the image of his scrawny neck
with its large bobbing apple
that has misled me?
Yes,
folks can be cruel about appearance,
he might be beautiful on the inside,
but his skin! His eyes
are really black and glassy
and they bulge!
I suspect he actually is
an alien lizard being
he's testing me
making me judge him.
One more
reptilian alien interloper
sent to this planet,
their mission:
just to make me look bad,
but I already look bad.
I've had an 'out of body' experience
So you can't blame me for what I did
My alter ego Oscar perpetrated the crime
To do such a thing I'm too timid
I'm totally innocent of this heinous act
Must have been devoid of all morals
Listen I still do have a few of them left
With that you surely can't quarrel
This heinous act of stealing a kiss
Had crossed my mind a few times
But being the timid soul that I am
Never thought of crossing that line
So I'm not guilty, pleaded nothing wrong
It was Oscar my mischievous friend
Who tends to run amok once in a while
And I'm always having to defend
I make a perfect dry martini,
I read and write and speak Français,
All my suits, and shirts, and shoes are custom-made.
I own a Porsche and Maserati,
A house on Acapulco Bay
With scores of floors of marble tile that's all inlaid.
I have a staff to fetch and carry,
My every wish is their command,
If I drop things, I just leave them where they lay.
All I need do is snap my fingers,
Someone's always close at hand,
And they look after Señor Jim in every way.
I host the most elaborate soirées,
They're in society's upper niche,
On my birthday and, of course, on New Year's Eve,
Where the hoi polloi and high-born
Mingle with the nouveau riche,
And they're all the better for it when they leave.
This all may seem a bit pretentious,
And I don't mean to self-inflate,
For wealth and fame, of course, do not equate with happiness,
But in my dreams my alter ego
Will oftentimes exaggerate
And make seem real what, to be sure, is pure "b..s".
when an alter call
to come we would say you all (ya'll)
must been one more brawl
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