Bitch self.

My self is a slippery bitch
wants to hide in the mud.
I try to lure it out.
It tells me to go to hell.
So I went and stayed
till it ran out of masks.
I sigh & ask, "What now?"
Self says, "Don't look at me for help."
So I wrangle the bitch out,
make it sit while I draw.
It doesn't like it one bit,
but it's high time to live.
I don't know where we split,
maybe since the first period.
The self no longer fit,
so it went escapist.
Gee, I wonder what we could've been.
Probably happily in oblivion.
But then I'd be bored.
So I guest it worked out best.

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