Half of me sleeps and

wakes up again,

The other half

laughs

all the time,

but hits like

a full punch,

a straight to the face

I was walking towards

that sits me down again.

 

On better nights I sit

and take it all in –

there must be somewhere that

feels like home –

the lights dazzle

and the crowd cheers,

the bed sheets hug me.

 

On worse nights I wake

still ordinary and plain

and corrupt from deep within –

every fibre of every inch of

bent, hammered steel of hatred

and destruction and cunning.

 

I am the two edges of excitement –

chaos and order –

dancing on one blade together.

 

I’ll cut you so you can feel alive,

and I’ll take every arrow fired at you,

to make my life feel less worthless.