she's the humidity on my summer day,
the mosquito bite on the back of my leg;
that nagging cough that just won't quit,
weeks after the cold itself is gone.
she's the pimple on my chin and the
horizontal scratch on my glasses.
she buzzes in the background of my mind,
some days far louder than others.
i try to rationalize and reason with her,
but even the strongest will and the most
determined of intention is no match for
a steel-reinforced concrete wall.
sometimes she chokes my throat and
speaks for me, making me a fool.
other times, she just whispers in my
ear and poisons my whirling thoughts.
some day, i will muster the courage to
drown her out, once and for all.
but until then, if there's a hitch in my smile,
or a sigh amidst the peals of laughter,
or even just a downward gaze,
know that it is not me, it is her.
i hate her because i love her.
she is me, and i am her.