29. Perseverance

I argue with my own breath,

afraid my lungs will fail me

Against my body I will always win the battle.

I argue with my bleeding heart,

convince it to sew up its wounds and clean its stains

and somehow I can win it over, time

and time again.

and then

I argue with the darkest parts of consciousness

Against the subconscious I cannot win.

But against those looming thoughts

that cast a shadow

on my best intentions

I conjure up my cleverest comebacks

bitterest remarks and swiftest returns

Bleaker years have trained me in retaliation.

You could say it's like arguing with myself.

One side of me sunlight and the other eclipse

Fighting over the meaning of morals and the purpose of truth

A battle of brains, perhaps

But I see it more as a battle of will.

Both the sun and night sky know what's right

So the question is not what should I do

But will I do it?

So hence this war I face

everyday

with the sunrise

My conscious evil is like my physical body

It grows and adapts and wards off the sickness of goodness and truth

That I constantly pump into its veins

No two words ever work the same way,

so my light side has become a philosopher and poet

so accustomed to twisting and turning and finding new words that mean the same things.

Sometimes I scratch out letters on

crumpled receipts with pens that ran dry months ago

to convince my darkness to let light have its way,

just for today.

The dark isn't stupid.

It's not often tricked and cannot be permanently kept under reigns

But words can touch it and change it for minutes on end or soften its glare

like a song

So I keep writing letters addressed to the me of yesterday

The one who I no longer want to be

In hopes that the words will fool the dark

long enough

for the light to show through me

just for the day.