Two voices speak inside my head.
They often tell me what to do.
One will say, "you're better off dead."
The other says, "So are you."
They fight each other day and night.
Which is wrong? Which is right?
I hold myself in check, I weep.
I seethe inside, my temper I keep.
The calm I feign then makes me bleed.
I fail at times to staunch the flow.
I try so hard to extract the seed
that allows this infection to grow.
But each time I try to cut it out,
a tiny piece is lef tbehind.
It hides until I hear my voices shout,
"Beware! Soon you'll lose your mind!"
On those two things they do agree,
but there is nothing else.
On means and reasons they differ, you see,
and little ever helps.
To shut them up, I read, I sing,
I write, I dream, they fade.
But echoes within my head do ring,
and again the game is played.
26 October 2004
