Voices

I’ve gotten myself into sort of a predicament

I’m not happy with the way things currently are

I want to exit this nonsense

But the door is still too far

It used to be just my voice

Only one story snowballing into existence

That voice sits on this old rusty shelf

Inside the unfinished dusty fantasy

I can hear the characters calling for me

stuck just as I

What is holding me back

Why can't we all be free?

I must rid of these imposters

the unwanted narrators of stories untold.

Should I be victorious

my voice I would behold?

I sat at the desk

and put the pen on the yellow paper.

In an instant, the stories go quiet

nothing but blackness remains.

I scream inside why?!

This is punishment.

I look over my shoulder at the dusty binder

this must be your fault.

Even I cannot win against me

my voice always escapes

It’s a simple story really

with an ending that works.

I must always take the harder way

dragging myself through intolerable misery

even though the endings are the same

I am not.