The voices in your head are so loud, I can almost hear them as I sit across from you.
The voices are all your own but they say the same things mine do.
If thoughts had bodies with hands and fingers your wrists would already be slit.
Instead they have to convince and abuse you until you do it.
It feels like your insides are trying to rip you apart.
Soon nothing will be left of you but a shivering heart.
The thoughts inside rise against you to form a single voice.
"Take your own life, this isn't a choice".
Or the enemy inside will romanticize hanging from a ceiling fan.
Depression will tell you that you are alone and that it's about what you can't not can.
I hope you can hear me above the din.
The emotional wasteland you are in.
I cannot promise happiness.
You will have to work towards that peace.
But I will listen when it feels like the end.
As I listen your words and worries may be released.