The Silence is grueling.

I want to speak,

But no words reach my lips.

And when they do, I wonder,

Can you hear me?

I see the world

Thinking like machines.

I want to tell them to stop

And show them what their “acceptance” really means.

But instead I hide.

The Silence burning inside me.

So I hid and cried

Ashamed of the world I knew

And ashamed of myself.

It seemed there was nothing I could do.

But then I wrote

And The Silence turned and fled

Because of something no teacher had taught me:

Words can fly to your fingers instead.