The voices in my head
I hear them all the time
Sometimes their sound deafens me
To everyone else  they are me
Seperate compartments, fragments of me
Somehow never adding up to a whole
Sometimes I think they'll drive me mad
Or maybe I am already there

Each voice seperate
Distinct
Some are quiet
Passive
Some are loud
Angry
Some are the voices of pain
Sometimes they become so demanding
That I desperately seek a way to silence them
Sometimes the voice crying out for self-destruction
Becomes so powerful the others hammer for attention
To distract me from the suicidal path

I wonder sometimes
How this head of mine
Can contain all these voices
When they all scream to be noticed
I become frantic to meet all their needs
The voices become silent sometimes
And for a while there is peace
Not the peace of resolution
But the uneasy peace between opposing forces
Too tired to continue the war
And the voices
Are the voices of children
Children begging to be loved
To know that someone cares
That someone gives a damn

I know that these voices
Are the different aspects of me
And the only way to silence them
Is to listen to what they have to say
Each voice cries out to be an individual
Each is afraid of dying
All but the one who seeks death
She is afraid of
Living

Ciaro and Ines,

No-one is 'going to lock you away'.

It is wonderful of you to be able to express yourselves (all parts) here.  All I can reflect it to is that I talk to my T about my 'white side' and my 'black side'.  I drew her a picture of one person (Me) with a line down the middle and coloured one side in black.  The 'black side' won't trust, doesn't want to live and she want to run away and be alone.  The 'white side' wants to love to trust and to stay here on this earth.  Between the two is resistance and the battle I find myself between.  I don't have voices I hear, I simply feel in a battle with myself at times of distress.  Yet Ines, I do feel I have 'separate compartments' sometimes . . . ..

Thanks for sharing.

Tracey