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Sci·am·a·chy noun [sahy-am–uh-kee]: an act or instance of fighting a shadow or an imaginary enemy.

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You call me your dark side

But I’m not one side

Or another side

I’m your inside.

You call me your shadow

But that cannot be true

Because how is that your shadow

Overshadows you?

You say you want me to leave

But you still sleep with me

Every night

Reach out to me

Palms up

Even though I carve crosses on your heart line

Make a river of blood where there once was a life line

While you twitch and cry so helplessly

While clouds of cotton darkness dust

The world you once could see

And you’re jerked around as though hooked up

To electricity.

Don’t leave me with my thoughts, you say

So I settle down and breathe out fog

Around your ugly face.

You will never awake, I hiss,

But you will not die.

Instead, I give you dreams

Of an airtight coffin

Built of the love you know

Of sunset-colored sins

And how the mask you wear outside

Is not the face within

Dreams of empty arms

And falling stars

And the hundred thousand million

Failures of your heart.

You will never get away

You lie in bed dead while rats

Nibble at your nightgown

While your nails turn black

And your veins change to green cracks

I have taken so much of your life

That the only tears you now can cry

Are pale blue chips of ice.

And you lie there

As stupid as you always were

As weak as you have chosen to become

You’re just a dumb little warrior

With an already broken blade

So do you want to fight?

Be my guest—I’m not afraid

Because the more you hate and hurt and hide

And hunt down misery

The less there is of you

And the more there is of me.