The Person and the Poet

I am two people The Person and the Poet One needing another Poet needs a person to write Person needs the poet to scream Without the person, the poet is gone But without the poet, the person crumbles An equilibrium But that bastard poet Fucks up the brain The Mind Leaving me writing into the early dawn Tired and fucking insane But that horrid person Filled with ink Forces me to pierce the flesh And plaster that pain onto paper A urge that I cannot control Until we both meet our end We cannot separate form from function We are a dissonant unit We are two in one Orange Juice and toothpaste We need each other But we fucking hate each other.