It’s easier to write than to
Untangle my thoughts
In my jumbled mind
And put air behind them.
My voice shakes with uncertainty,
Worried you won’t get what I mean
Or maybe I am really crazy.
It’s better to put my soul on paper
Than in the air
Cause I can always erase my words.
Words created with
A tortured tongue,
A bitter mind,
An angry breath,
And tired lungs cannot be taken back.
It’s simpler to let ink flow
When “Slow down,”
“What did you say,”
And “Speak up,” are all I hear.
It’s simple eloquence really.
My quiet, shaky voice is just not meant
To be used to say what’s on my mind.
This way I can be loud without
Having to speak a word.
And when they hear my writing,
“Be quiet,” they say,
But I just keep writing a little louder.