blankly staring at a shelf
speaking softly to myself
lying on my sweat stained bed
voices rushing through my head
recurring, frequent, loud
feel the need to make them proud
always wanting more from me
“Very soon we’ll set you free”
pseudo-hope, another day
they will never go away
messy hair, poorly groomed
isolated in my room
by myself but not alone
voices make their presence known
indecisive, powerless
sweet release comes with death’s kiss
reality – I’ll never find
when I get lost inside my mind