My Craft, My Destroyer - Parts i and ii

Part I

In me there are two parts,
My content
My destroyer

My content sees flowers
Defy my destroyer my craft
Shroud shift, feet lift

I see a world of glow and roses
I write meandering thick and heavy proses
They say nothing but observe the sun
The weak and idling breeze trips over lover’s face
I gaze at stars in wonder
Stars like any other

My content is face upturned and smiling
I ponder the majesty of swaying fields of tall grass.
Of small furry animals, little ducks and rainbows.
I forget I detest the outdoors
That the sun doesn’t sear my skin
Turn red, turn purple, crackle and peel.
I forget that tall grass often houses the creatures I fear most.
That I am not the outdoors type.

Part II

In me there are two parts,
My content
My destroyer

My destroyer is demon under my bed.
Drink in my head, kohl etched round my eye.
A pair of sinewy hands
To smother my content.

I write with motive,
I execute my creations
I line them up, they face the wall and I blot them out.
Destroyer is the talented craft
The one that observes the stain on your cuff
How you shake and shudder.

My destroyer is a turned shoulder against the sun.
He would let me live than die
To be arrogant enough to continue to write
Yet bleak so I’ll never read it.