the battle

almost every day I fight this
pitched battle
inside my head. one part
of me says I’m worthless
I’m dying
fuck my life
kill me now
why bother to get out of bed
no one will ever love me anyway
what is there to live for

and another part yells at the first part
for being lazy and useless and privileged
and a garbage human
and still another part says hey, what if
we pretended to act like a person
who doesn’t hate herself today?
what would this mythical creature do?

and so the eternal war
between my selves goes on,
and sometimes one part says
he didn’t write back, he must hate you,
what’d you do this time, you idiot
and most of the other parts tend
to want to believe whatever narrative
makes me feel the worst
about myself at any given time
and so you see, I’m hardly ever really fighting
with you. sometimes you get caught
in the crossfire between my selves,
that’s all.