Constellations Of The Mind

The Opinion Of The Voices In My Head

When I think it's over; I'm finally free,

It all comes back to laugh at me.

The voices in my head won't let me be.

"What a demented one is she."

I cannot enjoy anything anymore.

I fear that if I do, it will become a chore.

I suppose it's only me, not the voices in my head.

I suppose I'm just insane, better off dead.

"Wait!" I scream, "Don't do this to yourself! It's not your fault! You just need some help!"

I don't want help; help is for the weak.

I'm afraid to seek help; what will everyone think of me?

I'll just stay here alone.

I'm pretty sure I'm better off on my own.

"It's you," the voices whisper, "You're a weak little tool! All we see here is a meek little fool!"

So, I suppose it's only me, not the voices in my head.

I suppose I'm just insane, better off dead; at least, that's the opinion of the voices in my head.