I am a walking contradiction. I am two souls in
one body. Twins that never split in the womb,
born with two souls, two separate streams of
thought. Two twisted hearts but only one body,
one face, one voice.
On the surface I am Moriah, everything on the
outside is simple. Moriah is the face who advertises
the product. The Marlboro Man of the tobacco industry.
SHE is the tobacco industry, the evil secret no one can see,
the alter ego.
My actions, reactions, my outer surface does not
correlate to the world in my head. My mind is a
complex, infinite universe all of its own functioning
within this universe we call home. On the inside SHE
is angry, powerful, strong, reckless, primal. SHE doesn't
give a flying fuck.
On the outside I am sweet, powerless, weak, careful and
I care way too damn much. I am day, SHE is night.
I am a simple smile, a kind hello, the occasional laugh.
SHE is an evil grin, a cold fuck you, the frequent thriller.
I take the snide remarks, close my lips and sink away.
On the inside SHE is screaming, "Bitch!" and throwing
fists. I am quiet and meek. SHE is loud and in your face.
I am plain.
SHE is vibrant.
Vanilla.
Habenero.
When the sun slips away and the world is asleep that is
when SHE is alive, a creature of the night. SHE calls to
me begging and pleading, "Let me out. I want to play."
SHE teases me and taunts me But I hold her down, shackled,
imprisoned. Locked her up and threw away the key. I must
find that key, I have to let her free.
I am so tired of holding her in, tired of looking for
a part of me I have been vainly searching for in a
broken idea of love. Only SHE can find the pieces
of my past that I left for dead.
Drowning my regret in a vast ocean of medicated
anxiety. Floating through this life with an eerie fog
clouding our withered hearts.
Empty nights spent lying awake. My heart strings
strum a soulful song as my father's faded touch creeps into
my mind. His words cling tightly like a noose around my neck,
suffocating me. The sick, twisted words, "I own you." slither and
hiss into my core. Nights spent with wrists aching for a razor
to open them up and release the heartache I have buried,
spilling regret and unsung apologies out into the world
like wandering spirits.
Only SHE can heal those wounds, replace the pieces of
me that I can't seem to bring myself to face.