A short prose on self-doubt and inner conflict with the ‘self’. An on-going battle until one manages to find a way to stop feeding in to it all.
“You’re a failure,” she announces, insensible of the truth she lashes out some more whilst pending self-surrender.
“You’ll never make it,” she declares with no outright certainty, alas, tormenting me with more dishearten bigotries. Behind my courage and endurance I feel as if I’ve tricked myself in delusional thinking. That, perhaps she is right.
In her aims, she always has more…
“You’ll never be good enough!”
She will not stop until she is tamed. Her words sends fear thrusting through my limbs. I feel numbness taking over thus my vain attempts become arduous for my soul.
She sings the melody of shame and self-doubt, and I dance to her every beat. It will take hope and self-love to break free from her untruthful words but only to discover that I am my worst enemy, feeding into my fears whilst, in the name of mothering, providing them nourishment and verity.