the pieces of me
my dichotomies
don't fit pretty
or at all
clashing next to each other
mustard and peanut butter
different mothers
must be my fault
that i can't be one thing
or the same version of me
for every person i meet
like a doll
just a cess pool of thought
pandora's box
i am and i'm not
the rise and fall
you have to love both of us