Was it?

 

“They’re talking about you.”

“You’re not good enough”

“They don’t really like you.”

“You’re going to fail.”

 

Constant reminders echo off the confines of my skull

Eyes stare, judging as if they knew what was happening inside my head

 

“Did you see the dirty look you just got?”

“Have you planned the entirety of your life yet?”

 

I reach for serenity but the shackles on my ankles keep me rooted where I stand

 

“Have you found a job yet?”

“Were they laughing with you? Or at you?”

 

An endless spiral of What-Ifs push me deeper into the darkness of my thoughts

 

“Are you okay?”

“Why are you crying?”

“It was only a joke.”

Was it?

This poem is about: 
Me

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