The words you tell yourself

Breathe.

don’t buy into those
crushing thoughts,
the flattening worries
that press in from 
gloomier corners 
of your cognizance--
what is it that wants
you so squashed?
what pounds you down
with its self-scurving
sureties?
let phantom prophesies
drag their chains
untended.
do not believe
the backbiting
refrain of the
funhouse musak
while distorted 
reflections and myths
jostle you around.
/this is only a dream
this is only a dream/
tomorrow awakens
to the fullness of you, 
pulpy and crowded
with shimmery hope. 
this demon backmasking
is old dusty panic.
breathe. 
exhale byproduct noise.
unsettled echoes
have no flesh 
no substance.
it's a fool’s errand 
seeking to drag you away
from courage,
poise, 
vision.

“The words you tell yourself are the worst words you’ll ever hear.”

— Samantha Childs

Poem 19 of 31 in the series “The Liminal Season.”

My longtime friend Nicole gave me the prompt “squashed.” Nic and I have been friends since high school, a time when one’s self-esteem often took some pretty brutal hits. Those unsettled echoes stay with us, become a part of who we are. But they don’t have to define us.