I read this poem and felt such relief and acknowledgement … finally, someone out there knows what it feels like to live inside my head.
Inside my head is a voice
I don’t think it’s mine
It holds conversations –
I’m not privy to its plans
And I’m not sure I want to be.
Just yesterday I caught it snickering –
As I fumbled with my laces.
‘Take them out’ it hissed.
I knew what it wanted,
So I quickly hurried to the street
And the deadening hubbub
Of a peak hour bustle.
It was rude with its comments.
I was embarrassed.
Wondering if others knew
That it railed against their very existence –
Sometimes I confront it,
‘You can’t speak that way’ I’ll say.
It just laughs and tells me to fuck off.
I know it wants me to end it –
Take us both over the edge of a cliff,
Or maybe bleed into a hot bath.
But I’m not ready.
I’m hoping it moves out soon –
Not sure how…
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