At War with Myself

There is no winning

in this war with myself

Weapons drawn from every direction

gun loaded

bows ready

waiting, just waiting

I stand between them

broken and torn

role-playing the target

and the executioner

A part of me will die

and I must do the honors

but I can’t

for I always see both sides

And so I remain there, in the middle

stagnant in growth

and drowning in indecision

while the world moves on without me

There is no winning

in this war with myself.

Originally published at mallorymaeanne.com