VOICES ON THE INSIDE

What a mundane existence. I couldn’t get any smaller if I crawled
inside of myself. Oh, how I wish I could. That I could just exist inside my
interior, and never interact with the outside world. What’s the term for an
introverted introvert?

The essence of me is double-sided. A confused being. Polar opposites
trying to co-exist. Who am I? I seem to forget. Ah, I remember. I am what
they want. What they need. I am what they have come to expect. The
decaying flesh of the one left forgotten. Neglected.

Do you know me? I seem to remember your demands and your
unattractive neediness. The grip of your presence holding, squeezing so
tightly. Your existence is like a pair of vise grips attached to my heart.
Crushing the life from me. Why do I need you? A bad case of fatal
attraction. Walking on eggshells down memory lane. The torturous feelings
of the inevitable running rampant. AN unwanted yet welcomed companion
for my abysmal misery. The abrasiveness rubs my emotions raw leaving me
numb and in a state of desolation.

Who am I? Can you see? A distorted whirlwind of paramount
disappointments and chaotic calamities. This was me. Before you. During
you…because of you. You loved me because I was tailor made for your woe
is me existence. How may I serve you? And can I make things better for
you?

No. I cannot. I cannot be the salve to your wounds. No, let me amend
that. I will not be your muse. I must pick up these pieces, and throw them
away. Because I will be all that I never thought I could be. In spite of the
destructive gene that led me to such a desolate place. In spite of you, and
maybe even because of you.

I will learn to be free. I will learn to simply just be me.