Scattered Phrases

Frustration

I don't know how to talk to you
Or write anymore
Not because I choose.
But because when I think, in a blink, it's argued that I'm wrong.

Being fought
On every single thought
I have.
Wishing the frustration would just
Leave my head.

You know what it feels like.
You can relate to the great debate
Of your thoughts.

As I write, I'm conflicted on what I say.
What happened to our souls to make us feel this way?