The other me is of the dastardly type.
Quite a *******, really.
The other me likes to stay out all night,
and is awfully fond of drinking.

He says, "Y'know what your problem is?
You spend too much time thinking."

The other me doesn't take advice.
He prefers to make his own way.
He says, "You've gotta stop going with the flow,
and start making some tidal waves."

The other me is good with women,
and often calls me gay.
He says, "You'd might as well be a ****** -
that thing between your legs gets no play."

The other me is restless;
uncouth, rude, and reckless.
He takes over sometimes for days on end,
then leaves me to clean up his messes.

The other me is an *******,
with no regard for anyone but himself.
Arrogantly vain,
he puts those who care about him through hell
and drives me completely insane.

Me and the other me got into a fight today.

It started when he told me that I need him.
"Come on man, I mean, honestly.
I'm the only thing keeping you alive right now.
You're nothing without me."

(The other me likes to use the word "harmony."
He says it's a precarious balance.
"Our togetherness is destiny,"
but he'd **** me if I ever gave him the chance.)

So I hit him first when he least expected it.
You see, he'd never expect it from me,
but he laughed when he realized his nose was bleeding,
so I hit him again and he dropped to his knees.

"Dude, what the hell are you doing?
I thought we were friends . . ."
Then I leaned in real close and said,
"Stay the **** away during the work week,
and you can have every weekend."

Take me high into the sky
where I can't breathe

because you need me to fly
and without you I'll die

You held a gun to my head and called it a love letter
                                                 whispering, "I'd do anything for you
except die."
                              But you still sang for me, that night on the rooftop,
                                                                        our legs dangling off the edge
                    and  pinprick flowers cushioning our fall.
I think I understand now why some storms are named after people.
                                     You were a perfect storm. You swept me
off my feet, darling, and you never put me back, did you?
                                                                   there is a creature inside my skull
                         trying to get out what happens
if I cannot contain it as well as I should like?
                                                                The world begins and ends with you,
angel, dawn and a pearly sunrise against my throat,
                      hands clasping mine like a prayer.
Paint me in blue, stars dying all around us. This is how you will know me.
                                 This is the only way I will let myself be known.
Starved and dying and silhouetted against the rising sun.
                                                              You've seen this all before,
                              sweetheart. You've seen my neck,
my collarbones, my hips swaying like a breeze.
This is nothing new.
                                                    I'll wish on old trees and memories
and storms tearing down the earth one town at a time.
                  I feel in all the wrong ways, a thousand and one
errosions of faith
                                 Don't ask me why I do not feel like you do
Ask me how many stars are in the sky, ask me
                                            about the scar on my left cheek and
I will answer you. I will try.