I’m sure it comes as no surprise—

I’m wrestling with the voice again.

This time, though, I dread the fight,

Because I know she’s gonna win.

She calls me mad, deranged, unhinged—

But isn’t that her reflection?

I’d laugh, but she laughs louder, sharper,

Her taunts are my infection.

Wait—did you hear that?

She’s mocking you now, sneering through my teeth.

“You pity this wreck? You care for her?

She’ll pull you underneath.”

She swears no one could love this shell,

A shattered mind, a hollow skin.

“She’ll unravel everything she touches,”

She says. “Don’t let her in.”

Another voice—lower, rasping, growling—

My skull’s a cage of screams.

The noise claws through me, drags me down,

I’m sliced by shattered dreams.

I’m a splintered pane of broken glass,

Cutting every hand that stays.

If all these selves collide at once,

They’ll drag me to my grave.

Be honest—do you think I’m mad?

No? Sweet lies from kinder tongues.

A thousand faces, all bearing my teeth,

The battle’s just begun.

Whoever rides shotgun tonight

Will steer me straight to the dark.

And when they crash, as they always do,

My hands will leave the mark.