“I slipped,” Two words

A loss of control


The words in my head

The concerned voice

That cares and berates

That wants the best for me

By burning away my flaws

By reminding me of failures

By calling me worthless

And challenging me

To prove it wrong.


I know I can never win

Not by my own criteria

No mistake is acceptable

No “slip” an accident

I take ownership of my failures

My “successes” mere fortune

The whispers tear at me

Reminding me of my place

Worthless to myself and others

Without that same voice

I’d be lost. Confused.



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