Dreaded Voices

The voices are here again;
And these are not the friendly kind;
Not the ones that laugh at the jokes only I understand;
Not the ones I argue with about which color shoes match with color suit;
Or ask where I left my keys last night;
Not the ones that tell me to get my backside off the bed and into the shower;
Those voices can be irritating, but I know they mean well.
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I had this friend who ‘attacked’ me.
He touched my bottom line,
Then dug deeper.
I lashed out,
Breaking my facade of calm.
It was sad,
I felt within so bad.
Is he glad?
For pushing me over the edge,
And driving-in this wedge?
I’m not pleased
To walk over his ‘feelings’ while saying ‘please’.
I know this blade I hold,
Isn’t meant for severing the bonds we have.
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