The Voices

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I can hear the voices.

They’re screaming in my head.

I can hear the voices–

the voices of the undead.

Every single person

that’s died because of me;

all of them are screaming,

screaming to be free.

I try to tell them sorry,

but they don’t seem to care.

Then again, I killed them,

so I guess that’s only fair.

I just keep on wishing

that I could set them free,

but they wouldn’t be trapped

if it wasn’t for worthless me.


*(Note: I don’t know what else I can say other than, you guys have spoken. You guys were so encouraging about me posting my dark poetry, so… I’ve decided I will, and this one’s going first. Thank you all so much, and I hope you enjoy!)

Picture source: Medically Daily

My poetry belongs to me. All poems under the category “Poetry by Me” are mine. Use of my poetry without my permission is prohibited. If you wish to use any my poetry for any reason, ask me for permission first.

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Author: Hope Alexandra Cullers

I'm an aspiring writer and relatively seasoned traveler who only wishes to see, experience, and learn more. I'm ADD, HSP, a perfectionist, and an extroverted introvert. I'm crazy about the idea of perspectives, find joy in the little things, and make it my personal mission to see the beauty is everything. Welcome to my blog, and thank you for taking the time to visit! Remember, carpe diem!

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