Only One

some days im the only one in my mind.

alone in a way i never am usually.

people think the madness comes from my friends,

the others inside me, inside my head, inside my mind, inside my stories.

but it comes from the times when all those people are scared away by society

and i am left to wonder

who am i without them?

who am i without seven other versions of me waiting to come out?

who am i when im on my own?

some days im the only one in my mind.

and on those days, run from me.

without my others to lean on, i never know what i might do.

i could kiss you, i could beat you half to death, and i wont remember it in the morning.

mad always has two meanings.

rage and crazy.

but for me the two arent all that seperate.

i sometimes dream about violent things.

but among my friends, im the only one,

and killing makes you a monster, no matter what the reason.

....right?

sometimes i dont know who i am.

sometimes thats a good thing,

because whatever lurks under my skin,

i dont want to meet it.

id rather hide behind an alternate version of me, one with a semblance of sanity,

than let loose the monster of identity.