What are these things
inside my mind
within my ears
circling inside?

What are these thoughts
could they be mine
could they be trusted
could they be lies

What are these hopes
but the promise of tears
but the whispers that linger
of old untold fears?

What is this need
for the things deep within
that crawl under the surface
that twist in the skin?

Can I be human
or some other kin
made of destruction
and masochistic whims

Looking for happiness
anywhere but within
too afraid to see
for that’s where they sit

The voices that churn me
for this way or that
saying I can
saying I can’t

Tell me this turmoil
that I can leave it behind that my heart can be trusted
to tell more than just lies

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