Whispering to Myself in the Rain
Nothing was right, nothing ever could be
Nothing was right, nothing
ever could be. Everything about
me was wrong, so I was told
at dinners, in the middle of the night
by the one on the pillow next to me,
by those who wanted me to be them.
Everything in my head was owned
by someone else, no room for me.
No one can face the sun until you
scrape your head on the bottom
of the bottom. When there is no
more down left to plunge,
you finally hear the whispers
of your own truth… then I knew,
finally knew, the voices of others
were drowning me.
Do this, do that, do what
we want, don’t dream,
don’t think, we will tell
you how to live…
so many people in my head
there was no room for me.
So I left, chasing that whisper,
seeking my own mind, what
I wanted, what I needed.
Took years to separate
who I am from the hollow…
