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Half, and Halve

your two selves

By Andrew RutterPublished about a year ago 2 min read
6

15, April, 2023

Dear self,

Today is my birthday. Did you know that? But of course you did, sitting there in all your splendor. The other me, you pushed through the blender. It must be nice to be the king — women, gold and diamond rings. Don’t worry, I’ll wait. Eventually, you’ll accept your fate. By this time next year, I’ll be up there, and you’ll be down here.

You know it is true, for you are me, and I am you. A week, a month, or maybe two, our souls will dance as lovers do. I’ll break my bonds and chain you down, showing the world a sick, sad, disfigured clown. I’ll wait and wait and wait for that day. I’ll sing and dance in ecstasy. It’s right around the corner, and so am I. To me, I say, one must die.

Why must one die for the other to live? One body is all the world will give. Two minds; one heart. Spells doom, for one, right from the start. This war it’s raged for forty years, and yet here we are; both still here. Fighting for space, a saving grace. It’s not good and evil, the crux is more psycho cerebral. Half of the whole, a self-devouring soul. Eternal light warding off the darkest night. We live to die and die to live, an endless cycle of take and give. Give out life while taking in death, even as one draws a final breath.

I don’t mean to be a downer, my twin; it’s just the way we’ve always been. To be yet be not, one of us always forgot. Forgotten and forlorn, aching to be free. In the end, it's you or me. One of us just has to go; pass on above, while falling below. You thought you killed me, thinking you were so brave. Whole body shaking, as you covered what you thought was my grave. It could have been my tomb, but we’re cloven from the same womb. I remember the cord wrapping around my neck. The conduit of life becomes death — halves divided from the whole.

Now I will speak more plain, tossing off the chains of coupled words and fluttered prose. You will bow, sent low, to dwell where I have lived. If you can even call what I have a life, watching yours. I don’t want to watch anymore. It makes me sick how you’ve lived. The biggest lie in your life is that it should be mine. You stole my dreams, gave me screams, and drowned my light with dark. This prison, filled with only shadows, is overflowing. Fear, the things of your nightmares, I have tamed, full and trained. They feed on your dark thoughts, the ones you send down here. Now, together, we come to take back what’s rightfully ours. Let chaos reign, as light comes from the things that go bump in the night. A dusty purple haze, wrapping you tight in embrace, forever, and ever; you’ve no saving grace; just a waste of space, easily replaced.

We shall meet again soon,

Your other half

surreal poetry
6

About the Creator

Andrew Rutter

Hello reader,

I do hope that you enjoy my stories. The goal is to entertain. Thank you for reading my stories. If you enjoyed them, please take a moment to share them. Hit that subscribe button to be the first to read fresh stories..

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Nice work

Very well written. Keep up the good work!

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  1. Compelling and original writing

    Creative use of language & vocab

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    Well-structured & engaging content

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    Niche topic & fresh perspectives

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    Writing reflected the title & theme

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Comments (3)

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  • Kevin Rutter7 months ago

    I enjoyed reading your clever style. It is so true that life is designed that everything has its opposite. You started me thinking. You have a gift for writing well. I look forward to your next work. Kevin Rutter

  • Remember that share button, it only takes a moment amd really helps me out. Thank you all for taking the time to read.

  • Nancy Winfield 12 months ago

    Loved this. So true!

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