maybe I’ll get bored
 and write some poetry on the shitter
 that might feel good 

 I only feel together 
 when
 I’m tearing myself
 apart
 that’s a life of hypocrisy  

 I can like you as a person
 and hold you at a distance
 let me set my intention
 I don’t need your permission
 I don’t need you
 I don’t mean that
 don’t cross me
 don’t leave me
 did you ever love me?
 do you love me now?
 do you even like me?
 it’s all unknowable  

 maybe if I keep writing
 I’ll find her again
 only a fool wouldn’t try  

 people say the devil has a sharp tongue
 well maybe
 the devil is just a woman with wit
 that sharpens the sword of her tongue
 and writes with a crystal ball point pen
 that must be what they thought in Salem
 when witchcraft was a more reasonable excuse
 than god creating woman with a brain
 when all she came from
 was the rib of Adam
 written by man  

 at least
 if you have split personalities
 you’re never lonely 

 sometimes it feels like I’m stranded
 sometimes it feels like I’m drowning
 and sometimes
 it feels like both all at once
 with varying severities
  
 oh
 sorry
 what was the question?
 I’m fine
 thanks for asking 

 sometimes I feel dizzy and I wonder
 is this what drugs feel like?
 and I close my eyes and enjoy it for a second
 while the world keeps on moving without me
 but I know
 that really
 it’s just my internal valve 
 wound too tight
 building up the pressure 
 in my soon-to-burst purple veins  

 pop a pill in my mouth
 and watch a universe 
 explode
 into existence 
 the tiny capsule
 a spark before the bang
 only for the light to die
 once all the serotonin 
 drains from my body 

 I let the bananas go black the other day
 it wasn’t on purpose 
 I don’t like watching things die
 I just couldn’t help them
 I wasn’t hungry
 I couldn’t help them achieve their purpose 
 why am I here?