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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
Copyright ©
Lina Alfahad
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