A demon lives inside of my head and he is a chess fanatic
I'm telling you,
Every day all this crazy demon wants to do
is play chess with me

The problem is he grew tired of the traditional rules
And made up all new ways of moving the pieces
Without telling me
So I have no clue how to win

He beats me so often that I bore him
And he suddenly leaves
To go practice soccer
This demon is world cup material

I'm not sure where within my brain he lives
But I know exactly where he plays soccer:
It's on the back right quadrant of my skull

His cleats are made out of rusty razor blades
And his soccer ball is perpetually on fire
He uses my heartbeat like a metronome
To time how quickly he can kick the ball

Desperate, I entice him to play chess with me again
Convincing him I've practiced;
I'm a worthy opponent now

But I still don't know the rules of the game
And I have no shot at winning
And predictably
He tires of me
Again

Today is home repair day in my head
One of the pipes in my demon's basement needs to be replaced
And the only way to get at it is by jack-hammering

With no prior warning and no consideration of
Neighborly noise regulations
He begins

The jack hammer requires so much power that
Other plugged in things dim and flicker
Like my peripheral vision
The feeling in my face and hands

Sometimes the jack hammer hits something really strong
And gives off sparks like electrified rainbows
Square-dancing across my eyes

I'm never sure what game I'm supposed to understand and win
The game of chess with the pieces that don't move right
Or the game of convincing my demon to quiet down enough
To play with me again

Because I'm better this time, more skilled
Can take away his boredom for longer