The Question

I ask myself if you are me I’ve been with you for so long I can’t tell us apart

Lately this has been plaguing my mind like an insistent headache. the solution might be simple but you don't see the need to answer and that messes me up

I sit and have long talks with you and it seems I lost my sense of sanity the longer I let you take control I become slave to my own vanity and it seems in the end my own happiness will be the casualty.

So, are you me, or am I you?

All I do is give you suggestions All you do is question my intentions Though in the end you couldn’t help but love these sensations.

You should know by now that we are not separate individuals So why make me seem like the devil if this context sanity is based on the perception of this situation being literal.

The fact remains that without you there’s no me Without your eyes I could never truly be seen Without your body, physicality would be questionable like reality.

My mind and conscious are usually not on the same page my bad decisions are usually due to the victor of the battle responding in rage

its amusing because until they find a way to set their differences aside and realize that

the war for the control of my sanity isn’t some game it will be to late

I’ll be too far gone to be saved from the dark and empty stage

Enathi Mbanga