And They Return With Their Arsenal

The voices are back,
haunting me not when I sleep, but every moment I spend being awake,
they are there, always.
I've missed you.
When you would give your all to bring me down, tear me to pieces, shatter my dreams,
with your misery loaded guns, depression filled bombs--all within your words.

Like the Hyde in Jekyll, we are two sides of the same coin.
For years I try to prove you wrong,
"You are worthless,"
"there is nothing you can do,"
"best you just give up, because that's what you do best,"
At times you would win, and I am victimized by my own half.
I tried to understand you, but in vain.

For years I thought you are what made me fall,
you were the pit that locked my spirit,
but you were what pushed me down that slope,
you were what dragged me up those hills,
wounded but success accompanied me.

You were my catalyst.

Then you left, and I was alone.
I felt like I could do it all, until the voices were no longer from inside my head.
Suddenly those painful words were no longer said by you,
but by the crowd.
Who, I am powerless to control, unlike you.
And unlike you, they won't build me up. All of fakes.
Least you never stepped on me when I am down,
least you never cover your words with kind words,
least you helped me up, in your own way perhaps.

And now you're back, with heavier arsenal.
Armed up to pound me into the dirt, like you would in the past.
Their words mean nothing, compared to yours.
Now I stand before you.
For you are the Hyde in me, part of me that cannot be killed.

You are the voices in my head.