
Can I tell you a secret?
I hate myself.
I hate how I smile,
Brushing off verbal lashings.
I hate how I am ready
To cry at the drop of a hat.
I hate looking
In the mirror,
Seeing a woman with
Far too many scars.
Many,
Dozens
Of pale, flat scars.
I hate all the days that
Fly on by.
I hate looking out my window
And wondering
If falling off a cliff will be a
Peaceful death.
But most of all...
I hate what is inside my head.
The voices all sneering and
Yelling incoherently.
But I can hear my own voice
Yelling too.
Hoarse,
Scratchy,
Drowning
In the emptiness of idle thought.
Make it stop.
Make it stop.
Make it stop.
MAKE IT STOP!
MAKE IT STOP!!
MAKE IT STOP!!!
Make the screaming stop!
But I can’t help it.
All of this echoes,
Every day,
Tomorrow,
Yesterday,
Over morrow,
A fortnight,
A year.
The scream of hate continues
All
While I am stuck
In silence.

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