My night time self
hates
my morning self
it's clear as night and day
they never did get along.

My night time self
stays up too late
never sleeps
always thinking
drinking, plotting, planning,
worrying about morning self's mistakes
smoking a thousand cigarettes
one **** over the line
eating chocolate bars
at one a.m.

While my morning self
an early riser
is the one
that has to get up
go to work
always corrects
and
lectures
dedicated to maintaining the structure.

My night time self
only thinks about himself
uses
the last piece of wood
won't bother setting up
the coffee maker
he's so cruel
stares into t.v. space
muttering about love's
he's never had.

While my morning face
has to face
the clutter of night time
disgrace
bottles,
lights blasting
computers running
another ***** movie going
hello poetry splattered on the walls
and another alcohol poisoned
Jersey blonde
stretched out across
the bathroom floor
while morning self
has to shave
and doesn't know her name.

Night time self
finally sleeps
god rest his soul
about the time
morning self
from his dreams
has to rise
rudely awakened by talk radio.
Morning self has to go out and play
the straightened out games
while the residue
of night time insanity
lingers,
a film
covering morning self's
pretense at sanity.
Responsible
ethical
moral
always has to pay the bills
for you know who.

I once tried to get them together
a meeting of these two
but it quickly dissolved
into
a
shouting match
across the twilight dew
never could get them together
they were as different
as
me and me
and
you and you.

Disconnected, dimented
In a dimension
With no mirror to be reflective.
Thinking ourselves outside of the collective
Using abusive excuses as justification for the sedative

Flick of the stick, and the ash scatters
Serving pesticide on a ***** platter
In this scene it's easy to see we don't matter -
Never relinquished from the mind's ghastly chatter.
Just a solitary paint splatter,
In a basement of a home that holds no life
Blended into everything unless otherwise stricken by sunlight.
Rocks rain on our soft spot
Mental blocks stain those I wished would "forget me not"
Almost immobile, breathing in disease, watching the body rot, wash me clean

It's hard to stop
When the pain is adorable.
Ingested my finances,
I was too broke to afford your whole.
Your happiness I stole,
but I swear I don't have it.
My frown is right-side-up until I've found a way to mask it.

Gonna grasp this vessel by the foundation and collapse it,
with a relapse hit, staring at the flame as it burns the fabric.
Waiting for magic in a sea full of plastic -
Setting the stage on fire,
only to create something - *tragic