The Silence is Killing Me

 This silence is literally killing me.Afraid I’ll be caught up,in the words of others,comparing every syllable to theirs.Beginning to dread the next conversation,preparing,you plan what you will say to your supposedly reliable friend.There’s a barrierthat I can’t break.Not a language barrier,but a speaking barrier.This silence could be the death of me.Words fill my ears like rain,engulfing me.So when I try talking,my mouth is greetedby water,forcing me to slam it once more.It pushes me downto the point where I can be seen,but just not heard.They say children should be this way,seen and not heard.And I’m rewarded.Praise from elders,Laughing from others.This becomes my label.And now my label is killing me.Acceptance is vitalin my days as a teen.The thing about this,is not saying what I mean.They say, “just talk”or, “it can’t be that hard.”But under the stares and the expectations.Hard enoughaside from theschool and thesports and theband and theart and the friends,and now they expect something more?I can only take so much.I’m done trying to please someone that just can’t be pleased.Like a trainer won’twaste his time taming a lion,when the lion just can’t be tamed.So why do you expect the same thing of me?For everythingto be fine,and nothing to go wrongin my life.Then you judge me on one string of words.Is that fair?Is that just?Nothing taught to you hastold you otherwise.You say you don’t judge,but do it anyways.Say you’re not a hypocrite,but do it anyways.This silence is literally killing me.But you don’t really care do you?You know I’m quiet.That’s it.So then you label me.Just what I need.Another label for youto stick on to me,to satisfy the unspokenrules of this broken society.I’m just the marble covered statue,sitting stone stillin the back of this wide empty roomyou call acknowledgement.These labels will be the death of me.These timid conversations will drown me.This full silence is literally killing me.Please think before you speak.In your mind, those words may seem so bleak,but for a person like me,It means the world.The structure of the sentence,the flowthe choicethe tone.Nobody thinks about his more than a person like me.The shy one,the one who never speaks.And this lifetime of a silence.A long, endless silence,is literally killing us.   

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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