my feelings
they speak
but i don’t know why
and i don’t hear what they’re saying
what i hear is a hum
an eager but silenced sound
wanting something to hear them
but they are muffled
silenced maybe
willing to be heard
but the microphone isn’t turned on
there are words
descriptions
floating in the air
but they can’t find the paper
they aren’t sticking to anything
therefor not being read
they land on ears
filled with cotton swabs
wanting and waiting for something to break the darkness
but nobody is willing to let the light in
save for one
trying to get through the crowd
moving against the grain
every now and then stopping and standing with their head down
as if to admit defeat
but then continuing
as if they needed to catch their breathe
gain a moment a quiet to refill their energy
because against the flow
is so much harder than floating with it
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