loss for words

stab of conscience

my conscience is going to be the death of me.
always whispering how useless i am,
how awful i am and i keep falling for its murmurs.

every pen i pick up, every word i speak
i'm never good enough for my conscience.
i lie awake at night, listening to its lectures.

"you can't do it."
"you're not good enough."
"why even try."

i push it back to the far part of my mind but, it always finds a way to come back, and managed to steal my smile away every time.

make the voices stop. i just want to sleep. i want to be able to do something, anything,
instead, i wallow in my own self-pity

i don't think i can't take it anymore.