Whispers

People say I’m crazy
because of the whispers in my head.
The ones that tell me what to do; how to live
my life.

People pull their kids away
when they see me answer the whispers.
The ones that warn me when danger is near;
help keep me safe.

People teach children to be afraid of me,
when it’s really them destroying innocent lives.

People hate me because I love the whispers;
I never want them to leave.
The ones that sing me to sleep when I am scared;
The way my mother used to.

People feel sorry for me
because of the whispers in my head.
The ones that calm me when I am upset;
that tell me not to be afraid.

But I
feel sorry
for them.

Because
at
least
I
won't
die
alone.