A million words fight to break free.
So many, that I cannot speak.
I try and I try, but it doesn’t matter.
I am mute, my voice lost to this world.
I have so many things to say.
So many emotions to convey.
But it doesn’t matter.
I do not have the voice with which to speak the words I long to say.
They were so awful to me,
And yet
They seemed to care.
They manipulated,
Twisted,
Hurt,
And destroyed me.
And yet I can't
Seem to let them go.
Even knowing
How badly they could
I'm scared.
I can't believe we're here
Again.
I can't believe this is reality
Again.
Four years
They say.
It's only four years.
But it's four years
Of a living hell for me.
They laugh
The sorrow I know
Is like no other.
It is too deep
Too raw
Too real.
And as I stand here
Within its everlasting clutches
I find little bursts of hope.
And these little burst of light
Comments
...then (if this is about you), I hope that you keep writing! With this poem, you made a crucial first step. You WERE able to tell the world something, say through the written word that communication is a struggle. This already means you're getting somewhere. Don't lose hope.
Thanks. I appreciate the support.
I struggle sometimes with nonverbality, and that was the inspiration for this poem. It was my way of communicating when I couldn’t speak.
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