1 of the Others

Aren't you speaking
Words of wisdom
And won't you stop alluring
Until your will is done

Aren't you possessive
Are you not sick of my mind?
Did I not feed you enough?
Conspirators, unkind

Staggering blind
Into mayhem defined
Grind myself out of apathy
Into all-too-sober reality

Aren't you the whisperer
Doom-monger
Proceed to make me a maniac
And keep growing stronger

Sonic whisperer
Shadow unseen
Be sure that I'm your listener
Instrumented unclean

And I recoil
When you're raising your voice
I'm telling myself
That I still have the choice
That I am the one that is
Making the rules
And asking the questions
So blind with affection

You pull the strings with a steady hand
I'm serving on demand, sort the
Pieces of the puzzle that is
Our togetherness and I'll be
Safe and patronized, as long as I
Play my role under your control
What a tragedy that I'm the only thing
You'll ever know and never outgrow

And I recoil
When you're raising your voice
I'm telling myself
That I still have the choice
That I am the one that is
Making the rules
And asking the questions
So blind with affection

Unsettled myself now
There must be at least
3 of your kind
I'm keeping in mind
When 1 is resigned
There still are the others
Remain undetected
Until the last thought smothers