I don’t let anyone know what I’m really thinking
The whispers in my head are only for me
They say things that I’d rather not admit
They hurt me in more than one way.

The whispers are cruel and soft
They chip away at my self-esteem
They voice all of my concerns, they tear me apart by the seams
But no one can know, not anyone at all
You’d probably put me in a straight jacket
For the things they say to me.

They understand me like only I could
They know everything behind what I do
They sound like me—
But the things they say? I wish I didn’t agree.
They’re so intrinsically me.
I despise them, but I know they’re right.

“I’m unloved.”
“No one thinks I’m attractive. I disappear among all of the others in the room.”
“They don’t really like me.”
”I’m so stupid, my friends don’t care for me as much as I do for them.”

If only I could transfer a tiny percent of my love for my friends to myself,
I think I would be fine.
I wish I didn’t hate myself
But it’s such a thin line
In a way, I’m a blade runner
In that I walk the edge of my sanity on a day to day basis.

I wish I didn’t listen to the whispers.
I wish everyone knew I’m not fine.
But I don’t want your sympathy, no, not that.
I just want you to understand.
The whispers at night when I’m all alone
The voices that tell me I should just be a rotting pile of bones
All I want is to silence them,
But to do that, I would have to cease existing.

I’m tired of wanting to die
I’m tired of these endless whispers telling me I’m not enough
I’m tired of the girl that sounds like me
I just want to feel happy for once in my life
I’m tired of pretending to be fine when I’m not
I just want to be.

Oh, whispers in the wind,
I beg of you, please,
tell me of things
departed within
the crevices of my memories
before I lose
all semblance of self.

If you believe life has a way
Of telling you what it wants to say
Without having you ask or listen very hard
You may have unlocked its secrets, seen its cards

Because sometimes I find life will get what it wants you do to
But don’t get me wrong, it listens too

Wishes you may have wished hard and long
Has been distilled into its ear as a song
And sometimes its melody will playback to you
In ways you never expected it to

But hear it you will,
the lyrics now different but still
Fills your Soul
with the same familiar glow

And that’s when you know.  

Life has a way
of telling you things that you hadn’t expected it to say
But things that are supposed to be at the end of the day.

whispers in this empty room
with these lonely spirits
the shadows that stood by me
and there’s these creatures
that was like me
they brought me down
brought me more sadness...
trying to cover it up with laughters
we are the same beings can’t we help each other?
the darkness wouldn’t do that
they only gave fear
that’s all
i would rather live in it
than with the addition of these creatures

walking down the dark corridors
turning behind every few seconds
scared of what was going to be behind
fear that i go through while waiting
sitting alone in the classroom
dull dimly lit
seemed so eerie
the four walls of the classroom
that seemed to cave in
u have no idea
blasting music in my ears
hoping i won’t hear anything
any whispers
closing my eyes
hoping i won’t see anything
any shadows
hoping that u would come quickly
and keep me company
laying my head on the table
eyes closes
earpiece on
but every single small noise i hear
i awake
feeling scared
or hoping it was u at least...

My feet straighten out as I walk up the road
A typha in my left palm and a worn warm stone
Sentimental?
Or just the dust of petals in my mind?
I just passed a great big pine
What is mine? Is that mine?
A great fine diner is up ahead;
entrance of town and once my homestead with
a paint chipped door schedule written in lead
Peering through the window
There's no breeze though
but the lights glow
but the plants grow
How can I know?
What do I know
The small bell dings and I crash back
The legs walk in let the door smack
I grab my chest and eyes wet my chin
When did the shudder begin?
Felt
Felt a soft red cloth wipe my cheek
Is it her or is it what they think?
a memory
it can be
and certainly hurts
like a memory
A sip from a coffee
she blows on it softly
a snapping blink in the glass
whispering with moments that pass
as much as I want to try to be

The whispers
                 behind his back
                                killed him.

Chirping crickets, unheard whispers and a lonely street light.
For a small town, it is such a typical night.
A sweet aroma blows with the breeze,
Perhaps, coming from one of the flowers or the trees.

Red flares and moonflowers blooming under the moonlight.
Adding more grace to this beautiful night.
Peace and serenity rule in this silence,
There is no noise, there is no violence.

There are just sounds of heartbeats, deep breaths and whispers.
Just sounds of heartbeats, deep breaths and whispers.