VOICES

About this poem

I've been hearing voices these past few days, and I've been trying to listen to each word they say. I lost track of time, as I tried to understand all the noises at once. I dived deeply trying to reach the bottom of this introspection, not knowing that I'll be out of oxygen to grasp the meaning of these vague whispers. Like a sweet music lingering on my ears, I've been enchanted by the horrors of their screams. It keeps on telling me stories, it keeps on singing me lullabies, and it keeps on talking to me like we're long lost best buddies. I keep listening to their lies... I'm lost in the process— processing my emotions, organizing my thoughts, comprehending what it is. As I keep swimming through my subconsciousness, I found pieces of my past and I knew why these voices sound like home... it was, and it is still my home. A place where I imprisoned myself to escape from being free— my own den of tortures and self-punishments. It sounds like a masochistic thing to do but sometimes  more »