A poem I have written recently about accepting how long I've heard Ana, how long I have be a slave to our 'friendship' and about being AWARE of her voice, as a way of separating myself from her.
It’s you, it’s always been you
Inside my brain
Making me compare
Causing my pain
The frustration inside
The signs
The symptoms
The thoughts
It's you isn't it?
That makes me compare
That tells me I'm know good
That knife in the back
I thought you understood
The guilt
The shame
The food
The blame
It's always been you
Hearing your voice
Listening
That's not new.
The way you attack
Your plan for me
You waited so long
For them to see.
My need for perfection
My desire for control
Your need for power
My weakened soul
My dreams and life
You rip in two
And to Think I believed
And put my trust in you
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