I decided to post some of my poetry here, because sometimes I don't feel like I have anything important to say:
In the caverns of my mind, echoes ring,
A symphony of self-loathing, a bitter sting.
I hate the sound of my voice, a discordant tune,
If I could, I'd silence it forever, under the moon.
Each word I speak, a dagger to my soul,
Echoing my flaws, taking its toll.
I loathe the sound, the timbre, the tone,
If only silence could be my own.
With trembling hands, I'd grasp the blade,
And in one swift motion, my voice would fade.
No more words to hunt me, no more pain to bear,
Just the blissful silence, the void, the air.
In the silence, perhaps, I'd find some peace,
A respite from the voices, that never cease.
But until then, I'll endure the torment, the strife,
And pray for the silence to grant me life.