He talks to me,
In dreams,
When I wake up,
When I sit at the writing desk,
Quill in my hand.
He made me feel safe.
Who are you?
I am Hyde.
Why are you in my head?
To guide you. To help you. To love you.

He spoke to me everyday,
His deep and subtle voice lingering
In the back of my mind,
Never interrupting  when I spoke,
Never intervening in my actions.
I felt compelled to keep him close,
To drag him from the dark confines
Of my subconscious and let him
Perch behind my eyes so he could see what I see,
Behind my mouth so he could say what I say,
Behind my heart so he can live like I live.
We became one.

But one day he changed.
He grew stronger,
Louder,
I felt his phantom presence
Fuse with my bones,
Wrapping his fingers around my ribcage,
Cutting off the air in my lungs.
It was suffocating,
Letting him take over me,
To overpower me.
I tried to send him back to Hell,
Back to the dark confines
That I so willingly and half-heartedly
Pulled him from,
But I was weak and I was foolish.

I felt the sinister urges boil beneath my skin,
Felt the need for destructive satisfaction with each pulse,
He didn't want to hurt people,
I did.

I gave myself to him,
And now I am his puppet.
A tragic love story between
A troubled body
And a chaotic mind.