Voices
I never hear voices.
It’s a concept I don’t understand.
I don’t hear anything in my head
I feel static and
strings of information
floating in and out.
This is a loud campus.
I am quiet.
There are people who paint themselves
red and white on game day.
I’m not like that much anymore.
Nobody asks me questions about my mind.
I keep this to myself,
but I wish I could hear voices.
I’d prefer that.
Then I would know
what thoughts are coming from me
and what thoughts aren’t mine.
It would be less confusing than
random information dancing
static explosions.
I have no words anymore.
This world is so scary.
My head can’t even
come up with words.
Everything has been said
and said in so many ways.
I have nothing to say.
I have something to show.
Red and white.
Look at my eyes.
They are my voice.
It’s true.
The only words that come to me
have been said before.
A repeated thought gets stuck in my head.
It’s not a loud voice saying the thought.
A thought repeats until I’m fully listening to it,
glazing over.
I am hypnotized.
“A lie told often enough becomes the truth.”
“A lie told often enough becomes the truth.”
“A lie told often enough becomes the truth.”
Vladimir Lenin said that,
and now it’s in my head.
It’s kind of beautiful
when you think about it.
It’s not his voice, though.
Just soundless words.
I disagree with him.
The truth always prevails.
I’ve never heard a voice.
Not even my own voice.
I’ve seen it in the mirror.
It is round eyes— bloodshot.
White and red,
like the kids on game day.
I show my voice to nobody.
And I have no words.
I don’t even know
how I was able to write this.