The second part to yesterday’s poem. I am ok.
The good silence is replaced with so many voices that I can’t see more than three feet in front of me. All the voices are mine and, yet, they sound so strange.
I have an unruly mob living in my mind – each blackmailing me for a different prize. I know all these thoughts are mine, but I feel like my brain is made of shattered glass. I have to put the pieces back together. This is the rule. But, I’m crying so hard that all the glass is wet and it slips into my skin.
There’s blood on this glass puzzle, now. That’s never good. If I could just calm down, I’d be able to fix everything but the people I love surround me and I can’t breathe. My internal voices are screaming and my family keeps asking “Why do you keep failing? You are hurting us.” And a voice that is mine saying “no, no, no I’m sorry, please don’t leave.”
But they do. They always leave. And, I beg. Please stay. Please, I can fix it. I show them my bleeding puzzle like an art project. No one sees me anymore. I’m nothing more than a ghost.
I know it’s all an illusion. I know this will end. But, in this moment, all I feel is the pain from the cuts, those words, and my mind.