Voices

Since when did having friends cause so much discomfort?  What happened to the laughter and good times?  They judge me by the books I read, but when I read different books, they complain about those too.  They judge me by the clothes I wear, instead of my character. 

Sometimes, the voices looming all around me become too great, become to loud.  Sometimes, there's this great weariness that I cannot overcome, yet it is taking over me piece by piece.

Everyone telling me what to do, their voices becoming shouts of anger, their remarks becoming pain. 

Lack of inspiration, words that won't come out of my mind, art that won't become lively. 

Just piles of memories,

Trying to be remembered.