You aren’t good enough, you know?

I’d like to think there’s at least—

What are you talking about? So many people—

I don’t need you to defend me.

Can’t defend against fact.

Your words are uninspired, meaningless.

It feels that way sometimes.

What does He know about meaning?

You can create feelings, images,

landscapes from thought!

He creates naught

but shite and worthless musings

the ravings of a dead man.

I think, maybe, he has a point…

No. Don’t you understand? That’s what he wants.

What could you hope to know about that?

Don’t compare yourself to the greats and savants.

He’s a loser, buddy, strikes out every at bat.

No. He’s not. Don’t listen! Don’t get caught

He’s not up to the task. He has no peak, only flat.

up in his lies and his shame. You sought

He sought running, off a building—ha—splat!

expression and emotion, deeper thoughts—

His thoughts? Just shallow, shitty; a pile of scat.

shut up…

Shut up.

STOP.

I can’t hear myself think

or breathe.

I’ve no space to feel,

to be me.

I don’t know what is real.

Please, set me free.

Begone and be quiet

leave me, cease.

Go. Now.

LEAVE.