I sit in school.

The chair digs into my back,

Eyes bore into the back of my head,

My mind is buzzing

Fingers thrumming against the steel legs.

I say nothing..

 

I walk down the halls.

See boys leave class for another hit,

Kids tripping over each others’ feet.

Arent we all headed the same way?

Someone is crying again,

I say nothing.

 

I walk home.

The homeless man sits on the same bench,

Picture cradled in hands,

I don’t ask who its of.

The diner waitress stares out the window, lifeless.

I don’t thank her for the free hot chocolates when I was small,

Friends who live miles outside my own sit on train tracks sit on train tracks,

Trying to fly higher than god.

I say nothing.

 

I sit in the car.

The radio only seems to know songs about sex and drugs,

My mind pounds with words,

For a moment, I was to make music.

Want to learn every instrument,

Change every song.

I say nothing.

 

I’m in her office.

The walls are the same white,

Her eyes just as bright.

“How are you?” she asks

I say nothing

She tries more, asks, “Are you listening?”

I nod, say nothing

She says, “You can talk here, talk to me”

She says, “What are you thinking?”

I say, “nothing”

 

Silence is golden and my voice is heavy.

gunmetal in place of feminine lilt.

My words carry weight when I mean them to be light

Boulders crashing, no feathers dancing.

I can’t help it,

Can’t stop it,

God knows I have tried.

Tried silence, tried facades, tried lies.

 

I am all but euphonious

Nothing if not cacophonous

Unmelodious,

Hesitantly boisterous

and anything but me.

 

My voice does not know who to be

who is me?

Am I shy?

Am I strong?

Am I calm or a restrained storm?

I do not know who I am until I am it,

and for all I did not know,

I have arisen.

Raconteur.