Worms

There are worms in my brains.
Eating away at the silence
I so desperately crave.
I don't know who
Or what
They represent.
Are they me?
Are they you?
All I know is that they hurt me
With their tiny voices
And hard whispers
Telling me
Who they think I am.
What if I started to believe it?
Will I be more broken for it,
More distraught,
More damaged?
Will it be the end of my world?
What if they consume me whole?