In the dark basement, lit up only by a small lamp,
I build and program 4 different versions of my self;
One who is not such a disappointment, and is fun.
One who is more of an obedient person.
One with more of a strong bond with brothers.
Why am I like this?
Why do I even want to make these clones?
It's because I'm selfish.
I'd rather be stuck in my world rather than rise up.
I'd rather be stuck in front of a screen rather than do something.
It's also because I'd rather be different than relate.
I am strongly willed to send these to the people who fantasize my perfect version.
I am strongly willed to disappear, then end it all.
I am strongly willed to do these.
Until I break in half.
I want to stay.
A part of me wants to stay.
The right half, who is the most broken, says I should,
But the left, the one who is clinging on to life, says I shouldn't.
The left says I should just accept that I'm not perfect.
The right says being perfect are the clones' job, not mine.
I break again.
I become the middle.
I tell them that they are both wrong.
I say to the left that I can't.
But, I say to the right that there are people who still accept who I am.
Sometimes, I just want to be left alone.
Sometimes, I want to be with the people who accepts me.
"Do I even need to end it?
Do I even need to accept that I'm not perfect?
The answer is no. For both.
No one is perfect.
If it doesn't harm anyone, or their self,
Then we should all need to appreciate them the way they are."
After I said those words, the halves reunited.
I destroyed the clones.
I abandoned the basement.
And, I went back to everyone who fantasized the perfect me.
Author Notes: I think the metaphors are too obvious?? I don't know.