Moving what I like

Fabrics are sown So eyes are drawn to quieter things Softer Scratching isn’t as unbearable as screaming I wield control to my ears Over the entry of theirs too Better than taps Pressure, expected, Is not that intense Leaning, relying, assisting Mostly whispers cannot escape me My ears with a constant ache My head tries to convey my heart Yet they say I cannot expel it to the outside So the frog turns into a lion And I cannot breathe My intensity builds up And it clots my heart Eyes, eye I don’t care, get it off me The screams around me speak my name Don’t they Let me scratch more of my thoughts The paper grows worn And my feelings do too Understand me I do not want to attempt to communicate But your mocks make me overthink My stomach churns the thought of my incompetence I cannot talk, So it’s my fault, really