A Polyphonic Labyrinth Of Internal Voices Poem by Ros Venn

Where do you spend most of your time?
Confined to a mental cell, without committing a crime.
I am partially trapped without purpose,
I appear fine to you, at least on the surface.

You ask if I am okay, so I lie by telling the truth.
I cut off your question, and hate that I'm a brute,
My worries do not need to be added to yours,
In a cacophony, the first voice inside roars.

I am sorry that all I seem to do is add to your concern,
I wish that I were not like this, my walls start to burn,
Throughout the day, each voice makes sure it is heard
No longer working, the skills I have used are blurred.

Alcohol numbs the voices just for a little while,
I no longer feel like I am holding myself on trial,
Too little never works, too much doesn't either,
It's nice just for a brief moment, to be in the ether