The Voice

Her stupid stupid stupid painful words that blew holes though my self-esteem like rockets Her disgusting voice perpetually voicing every fault it could find, going on and on through eternity and never stopping, disgusting cruel and ugly Words echoing, pounding my body, fertilizing the rage that was blossoming within me, Making me want to smash something solid into the voice Making me want to scream for it to stop Making me want to destroy it and it’s everlasting complaints I hated it. It made me want to shatter any pretty thing I saw. It made me want to cry. It left me without comfort . Wherever would I go for comfort? The voice was all that I had and it burned away all the comfort within my reach. It was destroying me. It was picking me apart and finding holes. My eyes pricked, my throat burned, I fought as much as I could but I could not fight it off. It’s eyes, empty, searching for ways to dismiss my pain as over-sensitivity, to jab at my week points and make the delicate balance of my life topple over. It always won. That’s what I hated the most.