Voices in the Mud
We are your inner conflict.
Voice in your inner ear.
Thoughts in the mud
gaining life.
Through
you.
These words are for those
who try to remove us.
It's like trying to
remove the Id from the me—
or the myself from I.
You cannot make us go away just by saying,
"No! You don't exist."
We will always be in some form—
maintain our places.
We are the fragments of this shell—
Or shall we say, we are of what was herself.
Imagine, many can be the strength in one.
Each one performs a function.
The most important are those
of us who were here first.
When the crack broke the walls.
The expanse started growing
until our ground split to
keep things from moving.
You don't see us,
for we blend so well at times.
Like a chameleon,
we move through your world.
Some of the fragments
have episodes of chaos.
But, to prevent our end from happening—
We will frustrate you.
To stop you from triggering damage.
We will scramble to collect ourselves.
Bracing the walls as the mold crumbles.
To make things sustainable once more.
Holding things together by
keeping the light of her core
safely away from a darkened menace.
Also you, indifferent outside.
The conflict
between us and you
between inside and out
from left and right
deep and shallow.
The battle of mind
to the will of life
We wager onward
amidst this strife.
Copyright © Wanda JonesShea | Year Posted 2026
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