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#thevoice
Im bored so bored and hungry and cold and fidgety and tired cant write or sleep or eat or read headaches tight throat insomnia Dear Voice is it you im hearing im feeling? tell me, Voice is it your whispers, footsteps keeping me awake at night? is it your comments, and fears keeping food away, my throat tight?
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Dec 5, 2025
Dec 5, 2025 at 8:56 AM UTC
Dear Voice, Im Bored
So loud So bright so many people smile, be grateful dont cry over comments ¨Sorry, thought you would've gained weight by now.¨ Dont forget to say thanks, to act so proud to be alive dont cover your ears or close your eyes dont ´seek attention´ Dont act hurt when the voice remarks on every word ¨I love you¨ they say, and the voice says, ´liars´ But dont falter, dont frown dont act at all down be glad that they care eat the cake that your throuat barely lets through choke it down with a drink and act fine dont look in the mirror, dont trigger the voice as i tells you how ungrateful you are
0
Dec 5, 2025
Dec 5, 2025 at 8:52 AM UTC
Birthdays
Air hits, Mind shifts. A moment of happiness, Another of pain. Euphoria, Gone down the drain. Blood flows, So does shame. Mind deciphering, The owner's little game. Her voice, But there's one more. She barely speaks, The other voice guides her actions more. "Tried fighting the intruder," Says the mind. But the voice is an escape, From the real being inside. Into the gallows of shame it leads her, Her head in the loop of death. The owner ready to die, Letting the other take charge. When the air hits again, And the voice dies. It is murdered, The owner wins. No other voice, can take over her being. The mind deciphers the code, the owner didn't want it to know. It said, "There's a plan, only the secretive heart can know"
0
Jul 8, 2020
Jul 8, 2020 at 6:51 AM UTC
The Voice
Down many roads Behind me Over many hills And weaving, wandering ways Through shadows and through light Of the distant dappled past Filled with faint whispers of Familiar sounds and smells And faded, sun-bleached colors In the echoing halls Of the castle of my childhood When the hinges of the wooden doors Swing singing to a slam And shake the walls with Their tremendous thunder And the steps outside grow distant And all is still And dark And cold …Among the chilly labyrinths of stairs and stone And looming darkness, and the moving shadows… There is a room. Light leaps and laughs Behind the lock, Around the door, And floating on the dark, the eerie air, With dazzling bejeweled wings of silver, …there shines a voice. It flies, it trembles and It sighs and soars. It beckons to my stricken heart To follow; Stabbing my listless soul to life It beats its wings against the bars And flutters up, away, and through that door Into the light. With every note and every chord With every song, the Voice’s flame burned deeper Melting in waves of tremulous heat My icy soul And calling me to come To hear, to listen, and to unlock That door. The room became my kingdom In this prison My fiery home of joy Within those haunted halls Where my heart could leap, My eyes could weep, My soul be shaken with the soaring songs; The Voice summoned me deeper, darting, ringing Echoing through all my blood and bone Until it changed them. And in the strength it gave me I stumbled to the window in the wall; I saw there were no iron bars at all, But an endless starry sky of hopes and dreams A great wide world just waiting to be seen. Since then, my feet and heart Have traveled far Through crowds and cities, Fields, dusty lanes, Through scenes and sunsets, Never two the same; There is a scar: an ache, a vivid memory Still tender to the touch That tries to turn me Backward, time and time again, But I cannot go and open up the castle; For time looms, frowning, standing in my way, My childhood buried quietly Beneath the bony fingers of the trees That sway and whisper in the castle’s dark And miles and miles of sad and sunny days Have filled the place Between. But if my soul had form, and solid shape, Or if my heart could beat exposed To show the world what sparked it to its rhythm You would find, burnt deeply Into every fiber The branded image Of two silver wings— The symbol of the trembling Voice that sang (With truth and power enough to break a chain)-- My shackled soul To an eternal Freedom.
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May 31, 2019
May 31, 2019 at 12:57 PM UTC
The Singer
Down many roads Behind me Over many hills And weaving, wandering ways Through shadows and through light Of the distant dappled past Filled with faint whispers of Familiar sounds and smells And faded, sun-bleached colors In the echoing halls Of the castle of my childhood When the hinges of the wooden doors Swing singing to a slam And shake the walls with Their tremendous thunder And the steps outside grow distant And all is still And dark And cold …Among the chilly labyrinths of stairs and stone And looming darkness, and the moving shadows… There is a room. Light leaps and laughs Behind the lock, Around the door, And floating on the dark, the eerie air, With dazzling bejeweled wings of silver, …there shines a voice. It flies, it trembles and It sighs and soars. It beckons to my stricken heart To follow; Stabbing my listless soul to life It beats its wings against the bars And flutters up, away, and through that door Into the light. With every note and every chord With every song, the Voice’s flame burned deeper Melting in waves of tremulous heat My icy soul And calling me to come To hear, to listen, and to unlock That door. The room became my kingdom In this prison My fiery home of joy Within those haunted halls Where my heart could leap, My eyes could weep, My soul be shaken with the soaring songs; The Voice summoned me deeper, darting, ringing Echoing through all my blood and bone Until it changed them. And in the strength it gave me I stumbled to the window in the wall; I saw there were no iron bars at all, But an endless starry sky of hopes and dreams A great wide world just waiting to be seen. Since then, my feet and heart Have traveled far Through crowds and cities, Fields, dusty lanes, Through scenes and sunsets, Never two the same; There is a scar: an ache, a vivid memory Still tender to the touch That tries to turn me Backward, time and time again, But I cannot go and open up the castle; For time looms, frowning, standing in my way, My childhood buried quietly Beneath the bony fingers of the trees That sway and whisper in the castle’s dark And miles and miles of sad and sunny days Have filled the place Between. But if my soul had form, and solid shape, Or if my heart could beat exposed To show the world what sparked it to its rhythm You would find, burnt deeply Into every fiber The branded image Of two silver wings— The symbol of the trembling Voice that sang (With truth and power enough to break a chain)-- My shackled soul To an eternal Freedom.
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88
Follow the star that no one could see Should I be the Guardian of the stars With no light or shadows Upon my return to the sky In my mind
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Nov 19, 2017
Nov 19, 2017 at 7:26 PM UTC
The star
Her voice began as whispers to the people's soul, And quickly grew to a crescendo of battle cry for the fighting spirits. She raised her hands and say "We are not the ones who are weak today", With thunder-like roar stood the soldiers of today. Spears came down like rain to the battlefield, With only shields on their arms as their salvation. War horses came charging in the front line, Breaking down all means of defense from the front. Those spears are not spears, But words that society has poured upon them, Those horses are horses, But judgmental peers pressured their very existence. While she is just one person, Just a little voice in the midst of the dying world, "Live life as if it was your last" She chanted, Was enough as an inspiration to keep on going, -HIY
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May 18, 2016
May 18, 2016 at 6:31 AM UTC
The voice.
There is a voice deep inside It screams at night and festers during day It speaks to me Makes me feel shame It plays with me And all my insecurities A trap that only I can feel A trap that's slowly draining me Stealing my happiness Stealing it away from me Someone set me free From my anxiety
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Mar 5, 2016
Mar 5, 2016 at 12:29 AM UTC
The Voice
I'm that small voice inside your head telling you what to do. Sometimes you're quiet enough to listen to me. Sometimes you're aware enough to be still and feel me. Sometimes you can't stop the howling winds within your mind. You get wrapped up inside the tornado of thought, swirling through every nerve of your whole body, getting increasingly worse as new thoughts continue to overtake your mind, thoughts as abundant as raindrops falling upon a vast, dark and stormy ocean, your body the small helpless vessel being consumed by the unknown with your poor, lost soul trapped deep inside. Luckily that's only sometimes. I am the voice that has been with you since before you were born. I am your imagination, your spirit, supplier of mystique and magic of all the right kind. I am the words you cannot speak. I am the music you cannot voice. I am the very image you cannot express, awaiting to be released from the intricacy of your mind. It's time to let go. Let me escape the safety of inside. I am ready for the world to see the work you have kept cooped up after all this time. Inhale deeply, exhale slowly. Stop selfishly holding me for yourself, be rid of your pride. You are ready for the beauty hidden within to paint the world, show your love to the outside. Let them see how you see, feel as you feel, let your inner light shine brightly upon the darkest of times. Be refreshed, be renewed, be still and know my voice will always be your inspirational guide.
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Dec 20, 2014
Dec 20, 2014 at 9:55 PM UTC
The Voice