The habit of having a voice and continuously being afraid to use it
I am so completely aware of the fact that I have a voice And so completely afraid to use it because Of what I might say. Because I have a lot to say. I might say things like I'm not Okay. I might say things like I'm lost and I don't know what I'm doing, I'm scared and I'm sad, and I'm selfish too. I might Say things like trying to be a better person is hard and Exhausting and sometimes giving up is as tempting as Failing a final exam out of sheer indifference because you know Someone is going to do better than you anyway. I might say things About being a woman, and how it's so easy to remain silent In this society, how easy it is to pretend like you don't have an Opinion, you don't have a voice, how easy it is to believe That you're just an object for men to look at and call you Sexy, that you're a threat to other women because they're too insecure To realize that they are your sisters and that sisters should be sticking Together, not mocking or criticizing each other When the other isn't listening. I might say things about how sometimes I wonder why I was brought into this world, because it's cold and it's violent And it's difficult and it revolves around money. And money is scary And intimidating because it will never bring anyone happiness and yet It is the one thing that everyone wishes they had more of. The one thing That nobody has enough of. Enough. I want to feel good enough. I want to wake up in the morning and feel proud to be a woman, I want to stop seeing and treating myself as if I am an object, I want to look into the mirror and have oceans of self respect Pour out of my eyes and nourish my heart. I want to be able to walk through a mall or browse social media networks Without being bombarded by images of the latest female pop star Who is making the current female generation look like Self degrading cheap sex objects whose primary purpose Is to please males acting as a an open welcome sign blank canvas For humiliating labels and comments and Spreading shame as if it were a highly contagious disease. I want to tell you that you hurt me. I want to tell you that I used you to hurt myself. I want to look at you and tell you I am sorry. I want to tell you that I am trying and have you believe me. I want to walk outside and hug a stranger and have them say "Thank you, I needed that. " I want to make a difference, I want to use my voice. I am so completely aware of these things. I am so completely afraid. Vulnerability comes With living a true and fulfilling life. And I am afraid Of that. I want to be a leader in the sense That I don't continue to act as a vacuum, always sucking False words out of people, consuming them as if they were my last Meal on earth, as an attempt to heal the tiny wounds underneath my skin, As an attempt to feel whole and wanted and useful and important, As an attempt to pretend to have never been the people I have in fact been. I don't want that. I want life. I want to open my mouth and have Floods rushing into the ears of others screaming "HERE I AM AND I AM AND YOU ARE TOO AND THAT ALONE IS ENOUGH. " I want to look up at the sky and know That God himself created this masterpiece for all of us, Because he loves us. Because God has no grandchildren and We are all precious and worthy and forgiven. I want to say I love you and I want you to feel it. I want to say that to myself and really feel it too. I want to know myself. I want to know you.
Slowly, I dripped every want, need and longing into my hand, forming in the spaces where you hands intended to be. I came storming right into your life, arms out, begging, crying, "Take this, and that, have it. " Take me At least that's what it felt like, throwing everything I had or wanted to keep at you, begging for you to somehow love the way I hid these things between every argument. Screaming things that make no sense to how I'm feeling, things to make me cringe and stomp over every nerve ending for you to leave. And inside I'm begging, arms out, crying "Take it, take every bit of it, have it, please. " Take every rotten piece of me And somehow you've only kept in record of how I say I love you far too little, and kiss any skin available in my reach, and you came gently into my life, never asking a single thing of me. All the while I'm crying, begging stay long enough to realize I've become addicted to the shivers in my spine, and stars that scream your name.
I never mean to embarrass you In fact, that's what I try not to do You say I'm being shy I call it making sure no one knows me If they did They would call you a total weirdo For wanting to hang out with me Cause I don't shut up They would have wondered Why you could be friends with someone So socially awkward And obsessed with blood I chose not to speak So my words could hurt no one But it killed them cause they didn't know Why I was so quiet The fear to speak Took over me and I couldn't say a word I just politely smiled and texted back and forth I didn't want you to explain why Whenever everyone went downstairs With you I just stayed up there and wished that I could speak Or eat without being so hard on myself Some people understood Why I was so quiet Most just thought I was your little mute friend When I did speak It shocked quite a few And you seemed happier Hearing the sound of my voice Now that I wasn't so nervous I could truly enjoy myself I watched you play games And I smiled being surrounded by others I promise next time I'll talk more So much You'll tell me That I shouldn't speak up Rather That I should shut up.
I'm in a dilemma, And don't know how to get out? The friendship we used to have, Isn't working out!
It builded so strong, So great & so good. I really don't know why? It ended so rude.
I remember the time not so long ago, When we laughed & played all along. We were the best of friends, Or atleast that's what i thought
I thought i was loyal, And i know i was telling the truth! But so many things went wrong, And there's nothing left to do.
There are no words that can help me explain, That how much i cared whenever you were in pain. I only wanted the one last look, At the beautiful puzzle we used to share.
We all go through life, With love of friends & family. Even though we know, They too someday will leave us eventually.
Her voice poors out of her mouth She is able to stand on that stage and share her talent She is talented That voice is thick and strong and loud enough to reach hundreds of ears That voice is smooth and gentle and soft enough to please hundreds of hearts What good is a second-rate piano player compared to a voice like that? Her skirt will always be longer, more flirty Her teeth with always be straighter, tucked further away with the pensive look she has It is my love for Victor Hugo against her love for Victor Hugo My love for Broadway versus her love for Broadway But all I have is 10 stubby fingers to tickle the worn Baldwin in my living room She has that voice in a room full of red velvet seats It is my interest in Kristin Chenoweth against her interest in Kristin Chenoweth We both like to read We both like the theatre We both like you But what can compare to a voice like that?
voice.
Author: girl
0
Date: 04/04/2020
№ 1203448
THE VOICE THAT ECHOED
It was high in the hills It seemed like a movie still Yet the distinguished voice certainly fit the bill I will continue on if you will It was a very sincere voice It was Heaven being the choice The voice spoke being plain and simple The instructions were move and be ample The voice echoed from far away It was God's message in being a relay My chosen one's being the flock, but don't astray Your troubled heart is only a short moment It's put your faith too the test Don't expect anything less Watch as your testimony confess Keep praying and God will do the rest God being on the mount and you as a believer in the count A whispered voice Clouds as your path But our Savior don't make last.
I've been writing this poem For three years now. The buildup to a cataclysmic revelation The understanding that, yes, we are a perfect race. The knowledge of a people so wide, It will be carved into minds and taught to stone Until the end of time. But you cannot change The way people sip their wine. Cannot comprehend the understanding Of the earth to the sun as she sets. Where ballet slippers break the dancers, Not the other way around. Where the Deepest oceans are left empty, Where predator and prey both fail And love is a prospect of fantasy; Beautiful, and you wish it to be true But something only beautiful, real, and forever In fairy-tale books. Written by those Who cannot find their voice.
