The Worst of my Poetry
Author: Jordan Yates

Chapter 6
Voices

See that which isn’t

Though it is there and is not

Do what was never told

Though you hear it

And no one else does

Kill for them

Though they are not there

Kill yourself

To get away from them

But who are they?

The spirits living in the mind?

The voices directing your actions?

The demons out to get you?

Not the Boogie man

Not the monster in the closet

Something that cannot be avoided

By the flick of a light switch

Something far worse

Than any monster under the bed

It lives in your mind

Swirling your thoughts

Into twisted directions

Leaving you hollow

Possessed by them

Who are they?

The phantom haunting your room?

The animals following you everywhere?

The mysterious man

Who tries to kill you

He who is the devil?

Is it the wind?

Or the ghouls moaning at your window?

Is it a car?

Or the ghosts leaving shadows on the walls?

Is it your family?

Or the voices in your mind?

Shoot yourself.

I dare you to.

Really.

It’s quite painless.

Not really.

Go kill your sister.

Really.

What has she ever done for you?

I will hurt you.

Unless you do

As I say.

And now?

There’s the knife.

Cut your throat.

Would you like to end this?

Only takes one cut…

To take your life.

Look at you.

Pathetic.

Lying there.

Dead.

There’s no fun in that.

For me.

And so the torment ends.

But there are more.

Always more.

Tortured souls.

Waiting for me.

Oh the endless fun.

 

 

 

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