I lead a double life
As divided as day is from night.
An unseen dichotomy. A split personality.
An amalgam of shadows and light.
Most days, I expend my energy
In well-intentioned efforts to be good.
Do my job. Toe the line.
Live, look, and think as I should.
But when darkness begins surging
And the day gets turned on its head
I experience a strange transformation.
It begins when I’ve just gone to bed.
First, come the questions.
Springing from an insecure soul
They whittle and weaken my assurance
About so many things I should know.
Existence, God, purpose,
My commitment to my children and wife,
My job, the future, my ambitions—
“What on earth am I doing with my life?”
Next, come the dreams.
Though the details are usually dim
The emotions that come when I have one
Are as real as a cut to my skin.
Rage, Terror, Lust,
Deep sadness and confusion.
I often wake up to these feelings,
With no reason or real resolution.
Then, there are the screams.
Please stop me if this is too much information,
But my family tells me I’ve done this
On several nighttime occasions.
Personally, I’ve never heard it
And I couldn’t explain to you why
I sometimes shatter the stillness
With a tortured and guttural cry.
When the light returns as it always does
And Jekyl pushes Hyde back down under
I walk from my bed into a new day,
But sometimes I look back and I wonder.
“Are we still ourselves when we’re asleep?
Is it someone else who is dreaming?
Is my subconscious telling me something?
Am I really that guy who is screaming?”
I’m a good person. That is—I hope I am.
At nighttime I’m not quite so sure.
When I see both my sides, I just have to ask—
“Which version of me’s the imposter?”