I know I do.

Do you ever want to bounce from one place to another; an innocuous trip to the mall circa '85 with big hair and plastic earrings shaking to a synthesized soundtrack only to be jostled to the inside of a recycled coffin 6 feet under for 15 minutes, complete darkness and stale air and the lingering smell of the body you replaced, screaming with your finger nails against the wood, splintering keratin and mahogany? To be behind a waterfall hidden in Ireland where no one has been in a 100 years, crumbling rock walls lining the black forest shimmering through a sheet of crystalline water that you find yourself walking towards, just wanting to touch the mossy rocks in the cool moist air like it will tell you a secret, when suddenly you are rocketed into a bat lined catacomb deep under France behind a brick wall next to a lost jester in search of a cask of amontillado, skeletal with a rotten, jingling hat of past drunken gaiety in disintegration?

Do you ever discover something you adore so much you irrationally hate the last person you fell in love with?

Do you ever dream about lying down in the most comfortable way, most comfortable arms, most comfortable place, most comfortable pulse, only to wake up alone and your back hurts?

"I am your worst enemy" doesn't instill much more than a matter of fact reaction, however.

For the first five years it was a fact
Alone in a world of purple paper wings
Pink plastic stars in a stucco sky to the moon and back
Content without conflict
No soul to argue against you
Knowing who you were
Without a care; or anyone else for that matter
It was true, still true and wonderful
Whimsical and capricious
Imagination undiluted
Thick and ever ripening, never sour in constant blossom
The advent of others caused calamity, contortion
Convoluted complications
Of a perfect Pandora world invaded
When the glue lost hold of the ceiling
And the paper proved failure to aviation
While those seemingly simple ideas still flew
Over your peers heads
You became a lie
And those others cruelty need not even apply
No longer needed others to drain your confidence
When you discovered you could do it yourself
(The last lingering remains on the once steadfast independence)
The mantra you once lived by was now a farce
And you can't look in the mirror and repeat it
Without quivering, quaking and your face becoming a growing storm
"I am your best friend"

Surge and purge

If you throw me up on pedastel, chances are I'll just puke on it.