I don’t know if you can hear me,
but I sure can hear you.
I feel like you’re always present,
even when you grant me moments of silence.
Your murmurs underscore my days and nights.
Your nonsensical narration constantly follows me.
At times, I appreciate that you haven’t left me.
You’re often the only one who doesn’t give me strange looks when I talk to you,
perhaps because I can’t see your face.
I appreciate your constant camaraderie when I feel alone
and because you are my closest companion,
it pains me to say this.
I know that you came to live with me approximately two years ago,
but I fear you have overstayed your welcome.
You have become extremely needy,
never allowing me to engage in conversations with the others,
always demanding to be heard.
Lately, your monologues have consisted of malicious comments and angry rants
and I fear I have no way to console you.
My body is reprimanding me for the sleepless nights,
listening to your howls and shrieks.
I feel guilty for kicking you out,
but I’m running out of options.
I refuse to fulfill your one idea of how to get rid of you
and I hope you can respect that.
Your parasitic life will not cost me mine.
I wish you success in finding a new sounding board.