Reason
Location
Why do I fill little black books
With scrawling script
Because even as I try to type
On uneven dirty black keys
I am interrupted by the reality
That I am the working-class drone
I hoped never to become.
“Good morning, this is Alex with [COMPANY NAME]
I give you my time and my freedom
How may I help you?”
I minimize the window to my dreams
Maximize programs for customer satisfaction
SaveAs to update and edit
Know my freedom will come when the time is right
When the money is right
When the light is right
Why do I scribble in company-given note pads
Caricatures of people who never existed
Because when the world was dark
And the light was long gone
I found solace in the stroke of a pencil
On smooth blank sheets
Creating realities where I was happy
Where I could find love and acceptance
Time spent sleeping and sobbing and slicing into skin
Now spent creating
Children
Products of the imagination
Who would live on through words and pictures
While inside I felt my life
Had been stolen away
Why do I scream through the written word
Instead of making use of my God-given chords
Because I am not allowed
To use anything but words I am given
I cannot say I am pretty
Unless I am first told
I cannot voice my pride
Until someone voices theirs for me
I cannot spout my anger
Until those who wronged me are long gone
And I am alone again
With no one to hurt with my words
Because when you were gone
I reverted to infancy
Only saying No
No
No
No
No
No
Beyond my comprehension
My vocabulary
When she left it happened again
No
No
No
No
No
Only years later would I find the words
Never spoken aloud
Scribbled down
In little black books
In company-given notepads
Through the written word
Why do I do
The things I do
The way I do them
To be heard