My Head Is Split In More Ways Than One

My head is split in more ways than one

It’s a funny feeling, y’know?

I don’t know how to describe it to you, honestly

Maybe it’s like a capsule

One of those you take to try and cure whatever the hell’s inside

One half of the capsule’s usually a lovely colour

Maybe a charming calming green or a glistening red

And the other side’s usually out to show that it isn’t all good out there

Or in there

With its bottomless grey and whatever the hell (see, I tend to repeat myself when I get anxious)

I lost that sentence, didn’t I? (I apologise I guess it’s my problem that I often end up interrupting myself just to force people to see that I am not particularly sunny after all)

And once again I obviously lost the plot

Because quite clearly the capsule is unlike my head in the way that it splits in only one way

But hear me out on this

My point is

My head may still be like a capsule

Because I think I tried to swallow it

And now it’s stuck in my throat

And boy, do I feel it.


But This Is Only In My Head, Of Course

“They don’t do it the way they used to,” I mutter to myself

I rip the bedsheets into uneven halves

Tearing each thread with everything I have left

But this is only in my head, of course

For I am too mild for anger

Yet too harsh for joy

I’m actually at the edge of my bed

And I don’t want to be the mess I always am

I still can’t get it right

I still can’t crack the code

I still don’t do it the way I used to

I never could, anyways

But this is only in my head, darling

Of course it is.


Just like the cool kids

I quiver with time

Finding the circle

I step on my denim

And fall to my shoes

And then I turn back

I’d like to give due credit for this piece to “1979”, the beautiful ode to youth by the evergreen Smashing Pumpkins. As time fades, so does our youth, but never our denim.