Note to Self (inward colaboration)

Dear Steel,

I’m defined as more or less a tortured soul
I know no life other than this lonely road
This lowly unholy hole humbles my abode
Unfortunate mishaps and relapses force me to boast
My moniker speaks fiery phrases making me the toast
Yet deeply lacerated phases must be masked as I am the host
With the most so I’ve been told more than just a time or two
But you know me well, my confidant, so I confide in you
It takes the strength of ten men as others say that you have it
As the sickness bubbles up inside I keep finding ways to cap it
Insane with rage as others see me for something I’m truly not
Not composed inwardly but on the outs I profess coolly “I’m hot”
Unruly the chaos theory tears apart my brain and heart
But my demons doomed my aching art
………………………………..claiming that I played the part

Sincerely,

Fuego


Dear Fuego,

I’m glad you decided to write and tell me how its going plus,
I know just how you feel but I shot my demons and rolled them up
Might I suggest though, that you really switch your focus up
and compose a composition to the man who created both of us?
His name is Malik and I say he’s the one with troubles chum
He’s got two men living inside his head
………………………………and I heard about some other ones
So while you’ve got concerns, I mean just imagine how he feels
One day he claims he’s fire…….another day he says he’s steel
I may be the main champion of this deeply tainted brain
Just because you’re exposed less doesn’t mean we aren’t the same
To be quite honest though I’m perfectly fine with my exaggeration
Guess you could say I’m a proud figment
…………………………………..of this intensely vivid imagination

Yours,

Steel

What are these noises in my head, keep it down up there I’m working
Wait…you aren’t even real so how can you possibly be conversing?
I never agreed to any of this so how do these ideas keep converting?
I popped the pills I’m not healed…why aren’t you illusions dispersing?
I’m so confused can’t tell if I’m going forward or reversing.
They’ll say I’m mad, that’s just it isn’t it? The plot you’re all rehearsing.
An imagined thing, how can you compose woes about you hurting?
Systematically and mechanically I have to keep insanity from flirting.
You’re publicly disrupting me and I must stoically keep from blurting.
I smile and nod cordially hoping those attentions are still diverting…
from the look of horror on my face from these voices disconcerting.
Maybe I’m the sane and you’re all the scatter brained diverging.
I’m going to kill you all and silence screams in savagery converging.
But what will they label me in a decade
………………………………….. or three if insanity keeps emerging?



A paranoid schizophrenic with narcissistic dementia…or just a person.