My Crazy Lady

 
Deep in mind’s corners now she lies in wait
That nasty witch with nothing kind to say
And when she comes into the light of day
Her words are subtly venomous with hate
 
She has an energy I can’t deny
Such anger’s useful when put to a task
In times of need I’ll gladly wear her mask
But her dismissal often goes awry
 
And then her fury turns its fire within
Unsatisfied with everything she sees
Muttering incantations of disease
Convicting me of every deadly sin
 
She’s sneaky; doesn’t outright put me down
But raises doubts that strike too close to heart
Questioning intentions is her art
She’ll twist a smile to make it seem a frown
 
To love she thus bestows on me a blindness
Makes strangers of the ones that I hold dear
Such desperate isolation from all kindness
Is her design, and my abiding fear