The Inner Choir

My head used to be a choir

that only knew one hymn:

You’re too much,

You’re not enough,

Try harder, be smaller, smile.

﹁﹂

Some of those voices weren’t even mine.

They wore my tongue

but belonged to old rooms

teachers, lovers,

family dinners with sharp laughter.

﹁﹂

They sang in perfect harmony,

all the same key,

all the same ache.

And I believed that was truth

because it was familiar.

﹁﹂

Lately I’ve been rearranging them.

Not silencing

just moving seats.

The critic can sit in the back row

where it can’t conduct.

﹁﹂

The scared part of me

gets a blanket and a softer light.

The angry part

gets a drum,

because honestly, it earned one.

﹁﹂

Then I invited in new voices:

the friend who says, “I’m proud of you,”

the quiet one that notices sunsets,

the version of me

who laughs without flinching.

﹁﹂

Now the song is different.

Still messy, still mine.

Sometimes a note cracks,

Sometimes the old choir tries to take over

But I keep singing anyway,

changing the harmony mid-breath

and not apologizing for the sound.