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Anivel Aidan May 2016
i have a head made out of rock,
a body filled with poison,
and a void soul.

i am afraid
that my greatest strength
turns out to be my achilles heel.

i am looking at a blank canvas
with spots of red and blue and black.
i assume, i judge, and i am,
more often than not, obdurate.

sometimes, all i want is an answer,
but when they give it to me,
i can't listen because
the voices in my head
are telling me that i should just go
and that i have endured enough.

i am terrified of the voices in my head
that keep telling me that i am not
pretty enough
good enough
smart enough
because despite the fact that i know
that i am enough,
they still get me down.

i want to be myself,
but isn't the voices inside my head
is a part of what made me who i am?

— The End —