[Written: 2025-01-10]

I can’t tell which voices in my head are real anymore,

Because you told me I was mad.

I had a creative and imaginative voice;

A spiritual one for remembering family gone.

I had a narrator;

And one that would check corners that have been missed;

And of course: my voice.

The world made sense to me then,

Now, I know I can never go back.

My voice conveyed my soul before,

Now I don’t know where my soul has gone.

Why would you do that?