Dear voice in my head,
I wish you weren’t so loud sometimes.
You scream individual letters of insecurity enunciate doubt with such intensity
that every ounce of belief in self drowns.
I hate how you’ve plastered my face
with upside down frowns.
I hate how you’ve taken a very comfortable seat at the back of my mind;
munching on leftovers of my confidence, whatever you find.
You’re probably sipping coke
while you watch me hold back.
I’m tired of entertaining you.
Every time I aim high I can hear you saying,
You’re never going to achieve that.
You never have, you never will.
Every time I get close to doing something important,
and by doing, I mean finishing it, winning at it, you say:
You’ll not be able to make it to the end.
That would simply be too good to be true.”
Every time I see some possibility of building a new relationship,
you spit on my face:
Are you so naive to believe that
people actually care?
I wonder how I listen to you all the time.
I wonder how I let you overpower me
when I’ve let nothing, nothing
take control of me.
Most people do not even notice
that you exist inside of my head.
They see my confidence, my grand grin and think that
I’m probably very pleased with who I am.
Then how is it that I am always stuck
How is it that my passion, my soul
is not louder than you are?
Maybe because It’s impossible really
for me to fight back all the time.
With doubt etched on my skin,
with questions always lingering in the air,
with weightless words heaving on my shoulders for nothing,
with vile expectations drawing upturned frowns,
everything, everything seems to be testing me.
But I am done.
I do not cage my heart for fun.
I’ve let you hold the keys for too long.
It’s time I kick you out.
Forgive me little one, but I’ll not entertain you anymore.
I’m going go live the shit out of my life.
Move out of my sanctuary, my home.
My mind is my own.
The Voice That Counts.