Her Own Mistress

She breathed in, nearly spoke,
Wrote that she could pray,
For just a moment.
And then her mistress came back.

What do you think you are doing?
What is wrong with you?
You went to see The Great Gatsby four times?
That’s stupid.
Why do you keep listening to all these singers?
Stop playing Lana Del Rey over and over.
There’s no hope for you and Nathan.
You’ll go to Hell and probably die if you go to a bar.
You can’t get your MFA.

She chanted. It became a song almost,
But so completely devoid of music,
It was the absence of a song.
It was a silence that ate every heart that entered in.
It was a black hole that enveloped her very soul.

I am my own worst enemy,

 

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