The Trouble with Me

Me number one says we’ll do it

Me number two says we won’t 

Me number one says we’ll have to,

Me number two says we can’t

Me number one says we bloody well will,

Me number two sits and cries 

Me number one wants to smash number two

right in her stupid wet eyes.

Me number one wants to wave and shout out

Hey! Look at me! Over here!

Me number two says please don’t do that

or they’ll see that I’m quaking with fear.

Me number one sometimes just disappears

  and leaves number two all alone

then me number two sits hugging herself

and is frightened to answer the phone.

Swinging between these extremes wears me out

if only they’d both go away

then maybe another, a me number three,

could emerge and be normal one day.

Or me number one and me number two

might get blended together some way,

but I’m worried about what I’d lose if they did-

if you mix black with white you get grey.