Note to Self

Dear Dan,

I’m defined as more or less a tortured soul

I know no life other than this lonely road

This lowly unholy hole humbles my abode

Unfortunate mishaps and relapses force me to boast

My moniker speaks fiery phrases making me the toast

Yet deeply lacerated phases must be masked as I am the host

With the most so I’ve been told more than just a time or two

But you know me well, my confidant, so I confide in you

It takes the strength of ten men as others say that you have it

As the sickness bubbles up inside I keep finding ways to cap it

Insane with rage as others see me for something I’m truly not

Not composed inwardly but on the outs I profess coolly “I’m hot”

Unruly the chaos theory tears apart my brain and heart

But my demons doomed my aching art

………………………………..claiming that I played the part

Sincerely,

Aaron

Dear Aaron,

I’m glad you decided to write and tell me how its going plus,

I know just how you feel but I shot my demons and rolled them up

Might I suggest though, that you really switch your focus up

and compose a composition to the man who houses both of us?

His name is Malik and I say he’s the one with troubles chum

He’s got two men living inside his head

………………………………and I heard about some other ones

So while you’ve got concerns, I mean just imagine how he feels

One day he claims he’s fire…….another day he says he’s steel

I may be the main champion of this deeply tainted brain

Just because you’re exposed less doesn’t mean we aren’t the same

To be quite honest though I’m perfectly fine with my exaggeration

Guess you could say I’m a proud figment

…………………………………..of this intensely vivid imagination

Yours,

Dan

What are these noises in my head, keep it down up there I’m working

Wait…you aren’t even real so how can you possibly be conversing?

I never agreed to any of this so how do these ideas keep converting?

I popped the pills I’m not healed…why aren’t you illusions dispersing?

I’m so confused can’t tell if I’m going forward or reversing.

They’ll say I’m mad, that’s just it isn’t it? The plot you’re all rehearsing.

An imagined thing, how can you compose woes about you hurting?

Systematically and mechanically I have to keep insanity from flirting.

You’re publicly disrupting me and I must stoically keep from blurting.

I smile and nod cordially hoping those attentions are still diverting…

from the look of horror on my face from these voices disconcerting.

Maybe I’m the sane and you’re all the scatter brained diverging.

I’m going to kill you all and silence screams in savagery converging.

But what will they label me in a decade

………………………………….. or three if insanity keeps emerging?

A paranoid schizophrenic with narcissistic dementia…

or just a person.