Once, I heard a voice talking in my head, telling me things every day, whispering things that most people will find crazy and sometimes even scary. It told me about the ways to sleep away all the pain that came, whispering how I would be better off away. It whispered to me in my sleep, while I eat, while I'm watching tv. All the time, it came around when I least expect it to be, mostly during times when I feel like the darkness is engulfing me, slowly.
Once, the voice told me about one tiny secret, a method to make it go away. It told me, I had to go alongside it, because it is always a part of me, no matter where I hid. I tried to tell the voice to stop, drowning it little by little in little poems and sonnets that I wrote. I inked it on pieces of paper, in the hope that one day it decided to stay that way. But every time I wrote, the voice grew stronger because in fact, I gave it ways to be heard.
Once, the voice stopped for a brief moment. I wondered where it went, because as hard for me to admit it, I grew accustomed to the small whisperings inside my head. I grew dependant on it to tell me what to do, and I felt lost without the voice giving me instructions. I tried to bring it back, yet to no avail. I stopped writing because I thought the voice really was imprisoned on the small pieces of paper when I wrote on them.
Once, the voice came back, and now telling me it will whisper things inside my head again. I felt relieved, because at least, someone is there to talk to me again.
YOU ARE READING
Unfaithful
RandomFor a love that I wrote these poems; a love for myself, obviously. And you who reads. And specially for the 'you'.
