Me number one says we’ll do it
Me number two says we won’t
Me number one says we’ll have to,
Me number two says we can’t
Me number one says we bloody well will,
Me number two sits and cries
Me number one wants to smash number two
right in her stupid wet eyes.
Me number one wants to wave and shout out
Hey! Look at me! Over here!
Me number two says please don’t do that
or they’ll see that I’m quaking with fear.
Me number one sometimes just disappears
and leaves number two all alone
then me number two sits hugging herself
and is frightened to answer the phone.
Swinging between these extremes wears me out
if only they’d both go away
then maybe another, a me number three,
could emerge and be normal one day.
Or me number one and me number two
might get blended together some way,
but I’m worried about what I’d lose if they did-
if you mix black with white you get grey.