Alone with my insanity.

Alone with my insanity.

Alone with my insanity. Like a black bug sitting in the corner my mind. Dark. Vacant. Devouring the insides of my brain. Sucking life from within the cavity beneath my skull. Alone. Until it was unbearable. Absolutely necessary. Me or her. The other one. Thinking she was superior. My fears and insecurities personified. Plotting against me. Calling me weak. Taking the love of others for herself. Selfish. I’m not afraid of her anymore. Let’s see who will get the upper hand.

Smokey bar. Alone. Yet I sit face to face with my adversary. Cheek to cheek reflected in the mirror behind the bar. Jukebox is playing a piece of blues heaven produced by BB King. King’s golden solo is rapture to my trouble mind. Sounds echo from the pool tables in the nearby distance. Raise my shot of Kentucky Bourbon to the shadow and she smirks back with a laugh. Just imagine her nerve. I know what she’s thinking. How uncouth? Tacky. We’ll see about that. Honey girl, the laughs on you this time. What’s it feel like to be a ghost? Even if they can’t see you, I know you’re there. What happens when you can’t scream for help?

Arguing with the darkness. A few rounds just humoring my internal madness. Allowed this doppelganger to think it was winning while I was working on the real solution. An answer to put an end to this continued battle for my mind. Getting the monster out of my head and putting an end to this madness once and for all. A few drinks on me. Enticing. Crack her over the head with the bottle of Bourbon. Drag the body out to the car across the parking lot. Drop her body onto the freshly wet pavement. Go to work. Duct tape to secure her mouth shut. Tie up her arms & legs with rope. She didn’t see this coming. Did you? I slap at her face. Wake up time Bitch! Thought you had this under control. You never had power over me.

Knowing what has to be done. It’s me or her. I can’t live like this anymore. Secretly she’d been hoping to take over. That I’d grown weak enough to replace. Ignorance is bliss. And I hadn’t noticed how much of me had slipped away into her. Well she never saw this coming. While she was passing herself off as me, I was growing stronger everyday. Finally the tables have turned and I’ve gotten the upper hand. What is that you say? I’ll never get away with this. Stop me?

Mutilated the flesh of her face. Who’s superior? I’m certainly the prettier one now. Put a bullet in her belly. Blood flows from the gaping hole while she watches me. Are you afraid? I’m not. Controlled. Premeditated. Diced her hands into little pieces with a butcher’s knife. Come now, try and stop me? Strangled and stuffed in a trunk. Don’t wake up Bitch! Buried alive in the backyard. Captured. Prisoner of my own keeping. You have to answer to yourself in the end. She is me and I am dying beneath twelve feet of freshly turned dirt. Flowers on the unmarked grave of a saint. Waiting for her heart to stop beating. Perhaps she really was the superior one for all her perfection and I was the inferior one with all my flaws. At least we know who’s stronger and willing to admit those mistakes. With that reality comes the courage to go on without my insanity.

If you’re a Sylvia Plath fan, you will enjoy this thoroughly. If not, sorry but I’m not pointing out the reference. This is PURE homage to that fabulous lady.  I hope it is appreciated. Enjoy? m.