That I’m worthless,
a whiner, that I am nothing, nobody, these are the lies my brain has told me. That my work and words are pitiful, worthless drivel, that no one ever enjoys them, these are the lies my brain has told me. That my politics are misguided, that power thrives and I, in my isolation, am impotent, these are the lies my brain has told me. That it would have been better not to be a burden and to relieve my parents of my poverty, these are the lies my brain has told me. That nothing I do will be of note and I shall die unknown and unloved, these are the lies my brain has told me. But I do not have to listen to them anymore.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
Xander Pendrake
Poet, author and zinester. They/Them. Archives
March 2020
Categories
All
|