sometimes I get quiet
and I stare at the floor
toying with my fingertips and
trying to bite my tongue off.
there is so much that I have to
so much that stays trapped inside
of me like the grand canyon
and the words just cannot climb
out of my throat.
too deep
too deep
too deep.
my words are too deep to articulate
into language
lodged into the bottom of my
leaving scratch marks on my
throat and I can’t stop coughing.

I could smoke 300 cigarettes
and I’d never cough as much
from the nicotine
as I would from the taste of words
residing on my tastebuds.
I can’t stop crying
oh god I cry every day
tears slip down my cheeks like
rain from the clouds
only more.
I can’t quite remember how to evoke
I can’t quite get the demons in my
head to stop yelling
I can’t quite lift my head
so I stay staring at my feet like I’m
being sucked into a void
located in the humanities hallway
of my highschool.
sometimes I get quiet
and toy with my fingertips until
nobody is staring at me anymore
and sometimes
I wish that all the people I love would
forget I existed
oftentimes, caring means hurting.
sometimes I get quiet because I
am sad
but somehow the pain and nostalgia
feels better than all the laughter
that I know will only
and speaking these words will
never rid me of the loudness
they create floating inside
my brain
so I avoid conversation instead.

Leave a Comment: