Constant voices competing
over the noise of what has been,
what could be,
the terrifying prospects of what might actually be.
So many versions of myself,
so many ideas,
so many dreams,
clamoring for attention.
They fall over one another like drunken party goers
who can’t decide if they want to make love, or war.
You call it
ADHD,
neurodivergent,
lazy,
unfocused,
undisciplined,
unmotivated,
disorganized,
scatterbrained,
selfish,
flighty.
But you can’t step inside my head.
You can’t hear the overwhelming volume,
the me trying to communicate, to translate this cacophony
at once beautiful, and terrifying.
I SAID FUCK IT’S LOUD IN HERE.
And you replied,
I can’t hear anything.
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