(Co-written by @fontsize4poetry)
They tell me that I’m no good.
Crawling up along my shoulder blades, they cling to my ear lobes and pull up.
Whispering with conviction-
Look at you. Ugh. Do better.
They tell me it’s my fault, pushing back my shoulders, tugging aggressively on my ear lobes, screaming with assertion.
Look at you. Eww. Be better.
My heart beat begins to play bass to this sinister symphony of whispers and screams…
I know the music won’t last but I can’t help but hate that I can’t change the tune… They drag me down often, make this body of mine an object to be poked, and teased, and pulled apart, limb from limb like I aint shit to anyone.
I am no temple when they come around.
I remain forever bound, to the two sinister sounds no one else can hear, my feet glued to the ground, my self put in a cell…so no one else can hear… any of my whispers or screams for help.