Sometimes
I hear strange voices
within me –
perhaps echoes
of agony.
At times
I listen to the quiet lyrics
of a broken part of me,
a wounded spirit.
I never vented out
my anger –
or rather my plight.
I never had the strength
to voice it
one by one.
Once I was broken-hearted,
but not because of love.
Twice falsely accused
of things I would never do.
Remember – love was not involved,
but my heart was.
Thrice betrayed,
broken and dismayed.
I was forced to doubt myself
as fear gathered
around my heart.
And so
I succumbed
to the arms of anxiety.
I never knew
a good upbringing from her.
Not only my childhood –
she stole
my moments of joy.
I became her toy.
She used me
until I grew worn out
of humanity.
This anxiety
stole my identity
and replaced it
with grief.
Yes,
she was a thief.
A career breaker,
a home wrecker,
wreaking havoc
deep inside me.
