Ego

Day 1 of Escapril (writing a poem for every day of April, as part of National Poetry Month).

Prompt: Ego


Its death must come first.

Before all else,

as that is how it prefers–

it must go first.

To make space

to give for once.

It crowds, though singular;

Like infection. It becomes legion if not

Put in place and perspective

As one. Only one.

It was my shadow for a while

Bandaged and brandishing aches

Encouraging insecurity–

It was my friend.

Maybe I was its shadow,

Too scared to consider that maybe

I’d given it too much credit.

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