My Voice

My words are melting into yours. Sometimes when I write things or say things, I hear your voice. Only last night did I feel what I was writing embodied my own voice. I was writing about you, about your qualities. And yet I heard the coolness and calmness of Dominique. No longer your happy and cheerful voice. Trust me, I love your voice. But, my voice is especially important to me as a writer. I need my own voice. So glad am I that I got it back.

But, this isn't the first time that this has happened. I hear their voices too. My exes. It's strange, very strange. It usually happens when I am talking to a current girlfriend. I will say something to her, and what I hear isn't me, it's the one from before. I feel violated in a way, like my soul is being penetrated by their existence. The me is no longer me, it's me and her and her and her. Four of us in me, using my voice. I want to be the antithesis of certain qualities they possessed. To block out those qualities, blocks our their presence in my mind. That's all I want.

When I talk to you, I want to talk through me. I want you to hear me. I want to hear me as I am talking or writing to you.

This is me.