December 11, 2010
By Anonymous

I fight with myself
so much
countless endless battles
all smearing into one
it is worse when I write
the Bald Half starts to win then
and it's worse at night
when I can remember the perfect planes of your shoulder blades
and the scent of your hair
and it's worse still
when I write at night
and those thoughts of you pollute my writing
but I do not always let you win
and by you, of course,
I mean the Bad Half of my self
I can laugh at you
and feel like I have won that
I can think
'he thinks I still care'
'he's more scared than I am'
and I can laugh
because of the pain I don't feel anymore
I can laugh because
I took my freedom back
and I laugh
because you know
(or think you know)
about my sanity
(or insanity)
but you're wrong
and I laugh because I realize
I don't care if you think that I'm insane
which proves to me that I am right
for when I don't care
I know you have no power
and my mind is once again my own
and therefore I am not insane
and I laugh because
the next night
I will fight you from entering my mind
and taking hold
and I will win
and if I let you
it will only be for a little while
and then I will push you back out
I laugh because later I can't laugh
and I must while I still can
and I must laugh
because I know
deep down
even though I can win a battle here and there
I have lost the war
so many times over
because I can neither have you
nor truly keep you from my mind
and I laugh because I want to pretend I can

Similar Articles


This article has 3 comments.

S M Wells said...
on Jan. 16 2011 at 2:09 pm
I can agree with that. And yet I believe it has been rather a combenation of both for me.

on Jan. 16 2011 at 1:57 pm
TheArchitect ELITE, Madison, Wisconsin
227 articles 0 photos 18 comments

Favorite Quote:
-Anything said by Mr. T
- Ill be in my bunk
- Im so clever that half the time I don't even understand what I'm saying

Thank you. I am glad that you think so. Poetry for me is more of trying to get a certain thought across instead of just being able to use pretty words.

S M Wells said...
on Jan. 13 2011 at 8:20 pm
The fisrt few times I read a poem of yours. All I could see were the faults. The lack of flow. The peculiarity of stile. But I keep coming back to reread it. And you've taught me something. That there is a deeper quality to poetry than pleasant reading metearle. Or a meloncholy thought patern well expressed. I realy believe your poetry. No matter how rough it apears on the surface. Will be one of those blessings that will stand the test of time.


MacMillan Books

Aspiring Writer? Take Our Online Course!