My Inner Voice Is A Prick


Anxious breaths.

Slowly in

Slowly out

Exhalation brings on the sudden calmness with each passing minute you’re getting more sure

The jerky ride makes your chicken scratch less readable

You quickly scrawl notes

Jot down thoughts

Make promises to me

Say you’ll be more open

Tell exactly how you feel

But do you?

You try but you don’t succeed

Then you feel like a failure

You want more

But do you tell him?

Of course not.

The thought of him with someone else…

Well, it makes you want to regurgitate all the bullshit and half-truths

You feel like you hurt him

but you didn’t want to hurt us

You want him

but you tell me he doesn’t want us

That it’s just physical.

You don’t know because you never told him.

So, if you want to know if you’re always going to ask me

What if?

The answer is a resounding yes. You will.

You try to tell me that context clues prove you right, but we both know you can’t read a room let alone a mind.

You talk to me all the time

So, that should tell you that your social skills are lacking


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