The Crazy Lady Stuck in My Head

I was struggling to get out of bed.
There was a crazy lady stuck in my head.

For months she was shouting at me.
Calling me stupid.
Unprofessional.
A thief.
Fat.

Yeah…fat.

She told me she was getting rid of me.
That she wouldn’t pay me a dime for my time.
That my presence had no rhythm or rhyme.

So,
I said OK.

That’s fine…
I’ll survive…

And,
Do you know what happened?

I didn’t die…
I’m still alive…

I awake and watch the sunlight
Slip
Beneath the shutters.
It had escaped the night
And
I had escaped with it.

“Thank God,” I whisper, turning over in my bed.

My eyes decide to peer over the side,
Just in case she’d tried to hide,
But I couldn’t find
…
Her.

I know she’s still out there.
Somewhere.
Screaming at someone else instead.
Telling them they’re nothing.
Making fun of their something.
At odds with their…everything…

The truth is she’s right:
They’ll never be enough for her.

No one ever will.

She is hyperbole and I am but man you see.
She may find her life satisfactory,
But what about me?
Am I not free
To choose
My own

Destiny?

Goodbye, crazy lady.
I hope it’s a while before I see you again.
And even then.

~