One & Other

An internal battle for mental health

Maybe it was from a nature programme 
Or an episode of Star Trek I once saw, 
But I remember hearing that 
Some animals retreat, contract 
Into themselves 
In times of stress or pain.

Right now, that is me: 
Shrivelled into a frozen, fearful shell, 
Receptive to neither food nor light.

Two voices, meanwhile, 
Bicker in my mind; empty but 
Echoing, like a closed concert hall. 
One demands to be heard, to keen 
For a life both dead and living. 
The Other demands cold deprecation.

“Why think you’re so special”, the 
Other one sneers, the result 
Of being told that by strangers. He is 
Now the colonised, the voice 
Of supposed sense, trying ever
To be the hard man.

One is what’s left 
Of my vulnerable child. 
He doesn’t know why he failed, 
Why he was hated 
Why he was picked 
To be the runt, the weakling, the f*g.

One swims in pain, the Other in anger. 
One lives in self-pity, the Other more cruel than the bullies once were. 
One tries to smile for those who were popular, the Other seethes with envy. 
One yearns to be liked, the Other 
Wants no-one at all.

While One and the Other 
Fill up the hall with their songs, 
I bring my knees to my chest 
And hug myself, lost and small, 
Surrounded by a symphony of 
Self-indulgent self-hatred, 
Unaware of my ability

To simply deny them an audience.