"Still There"
i can still hear the voices in my head
and they tell me i'm not insane
but i'm not sure if i should believe them or not.
denial, don'tcha know.
and i'm still pretty pissed off at my father
for forgiving my sister her teen-pregnancy
her irresponsible behavior
her financial entanglements that cobwebbed us in
her putting the family in a place of shame
and for yelling Yelling YELLING
at me because i'm not perfect
and making me feel i could/can never be good enough.
so what is that..
displaced anger,
low self-esteem,
AND sibling rivalry?
and yes, i still hate him.
i almost enacted his murder
- the one i (pre)meditated over for a LONG time
and figgered out how i would NOT get caught
but still be able to see him suffer -
twice.
i think it had something to do with poison.
oedipus complex?
nah..
never liked girls anyway.
my mom's great and all but
ew..
the pain's still there
buried deep inside so much that i want to be the cause
um, sadeo-masochism
and warp this reality with my own
schizophrenia, ya know
but i'm still not sure if the voices in my head are really mine
or mine
or mine
i think they call that dissociative identity disorder.
or if they're really the voices of THEM.
paranoia, ladies and gentlemen.
but i still don't know.
ugh.
therapy bills are a bitch.
a writing assignment from en202, my one creative writing class at bu. the task here was just to make any kinda poem. this just turned out to be semi-autobiographical and exaggerated. no, really.