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The Voices
They know my name, a fear clutches at my heart.
Why are you scared? They’ve been here for you from the start
Even as you cried at toys broken in your room
Even as your fingers loosen the grasp upon your noose-
They’ve been here for every decision, to second guess
Listen to them, they know more, you know less
Breathe, say the voices, but only because it hurts
Another tugs at my chest questioning my worth
How can I ignore them. These voices are me
They are my past, from which I cannot flee
I need help, but the voices hug me so close
How can I desert them, these whispers hoarse?
You know they’re not wrong, my own head says
But they keep me living in a half-hearted daze
One where I wake up to and see horrors in slumber
A thought is to be a thought, but I have quite a number
So excuse my quick response when your voice asks so kind
But I will always reply, I’m just fine
For the voices said so.
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What use is it for me to say something when the voices are going to answer for me anyway? This poem is a piece of me.