lonelyraccoon

My Own Flesh And Blood

This feeling

 

It isn’t just when I stop talking because no one is listening

 

It follows me

 

It’s with me

 

It is me

 

Not entirely me, but a part

 

And that part has a loud voice

 

It’s criticizing itself because oddly enough, it’s truly the only thing that knows everything about me. So it can gives criticism for something no one else can or will. 

 

No one else is going to say shut up, and if they do "it’s not coming from the same place". No one is going to call me dumb, and if they do "they’re even stupider". 

 

This part, this voice, has taken an odd role

 

It’ll hate me the hardest, unless someone doesn’t like me

 

Then all of a sudden it tries to protect me from the harsh elements, shielding me but in the process blinding me and shutting me out.

 

Sometimes it agrees with them though

 

Takes their words as truth, then makes it hurt on a deeper level.

 

I could say fuck this voice

 

But it kind of knows what it’s talking about

 

At my lowest, I’ll listen

 

At my highest, I’ll laugh at it

 

And somewhere in the middle I’ll give it the love it’s been missing

 

If it’s so full of hate that I keep putting into it like a piggy bank

 

So what if love doesn’t go there, I’ll make it go there

 

Lost cause or not

 

I’ll change it

 

All the profane names that stab me will no longer be a kitchen knife but a spoon

 

It’s going to take patience

 

And I’m going to be mostly alone

 

For no one else can understand this part of me

 

Because it’s entire existence stems from

 

Every single thing I’ve done, said, experienced, tried, dreamed about, feared, loved, hidden, ran from, and been.

 

It is my own flesh and blood.

 

.t.b.

Comments1

  • Tristan Robert Lange

    Wow! Just seeing this now. Incredibly deep, vulnerable...I totally could relate with this. Thank you for sharing!



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