Dear Inner Critic,
You’ve slowly seeped your way into every
aspect of my existence. Each new area of my life you infect is like another spurred talon in my neck, a painful
reminder of the control I’ve let you hold over me. You
consume everything at times; on my worst days, you
even look down on the food I eat, the way I speak, how
I breathe.
Your claws sink deep in my neck while you
whisper in my ear:
“We’re going to have that? We just ate!”
You’re a shapeshifter; a creature built from trained
self-loathing .Always changing, emulating who or what
I wish I could look like.
You have such beautiful ways of making me
feel vile. You do everything in your power to break me
down, tear me to shreds, always attempting to crush
my confidence any chance you get.
And yet, you are an exact reflection of me.
You can run or hide
as much as you like,
but when the curtains
are pulled back, and
you’re seen in the light, you look like me.
But from now on, I won’t let it be like that.
Even if it means removing you one spurred talon at a
time, I don’t care how long it takes. A month, a year, a
decade, I don’t care. I have time.
You can still have a place with me, but you
cannot rule my life anymore. One thing I can promise
you is by the end of this, there will be no more control
for you.

Sincerely,

Kiah