To you, Self

Hello, Self.
What have you done to me?
Why can’t I get it?
What went wrong when you made me?

Damn you, Self.
Look at me.
See the havoc you’ve wreaked.
Look at this mess of identity.
Bloody, cold, and shapeless.

I’m so tired, Self.
I feel like a lab rat,
Getting my ears zapped off
In some sick, twisted experiment.
And I know I’ve caused this,
But it’s easy to blame you.

You were my coconut shell.
You were rock solid.
You were suffocating me.
And now I’ve forsaken you.
Look at me, Self.
Lying still and lonely.
A puddle of milk on the highway.

Please help me, Self.
I’m not asking much.
Just let me see you.
By God, just let me know you.
Or, Self, I’m through with you.

A little less of my usual self-examination and more angsty, but all in all nothing new for me, although I did differ in that I'm actually writing it *to* someone, the whole way through, even if it is just to me. That's something I do very little, if any, of. Enjoy.