Ego (poem)
Woken early by my black dog growling at another rabbit hole, pulling at the leash to dig out some sorrow or fear to bring back home and leave at my door. And there it would stay, if I were in charge. But today my Ego stands waiting for His treat and carries it into my mind. And there He starts his dissection. Pulling apart the fresh, raw, sinewy emotions, Ego searches for what disgusts and repels Him, what challenges His very existence. Where He finds it, He creates suffering that wasn’t there before. He relishes this for it is his life force, this is the stuff of anxieties, hatred and misery which He pushes onto me as the proof of why I should be what I should be. He points to where I’ve been wronged and stokes my fires of self pity, anger and indignation. Whipping up within me what He needs to survive, an identity different to ‘those others’, so its me and Him versus the world. But its not. I want no part of His critical joy, the self