Untamed

Always the listener.

Where are the ears

that listen to me?

Mine are on loan

to whomever needs them.

But I don’t get to borrow.

xxx

Or is it that

I’m too scared?

xxx

I don’t let on

what’s inside.

I dont let out

my burning screams.

I dont let out

the tears and sobs

that weigh on my

chest.

xxx

No-one really wants

to hear.

No-one ‘gets’ me.

No-one understands 

that I need to roar.

xxx

I start talking,

then fear rises.

Pushes those words

down in my chest.

Until its tight enough,

they can’t get out.

xxx

If you don’t push them down,

they become real.

Inside,

they don’t exist.

Not exposed.

Inside, 

other words

overlap and squash them.

They disappear.

xxx

Inside,

words flow easily.

Outside,

stuck and gritty.

Like sand in my

mouth.

xxx

Maybe it’s not ears I need at all.

Maybe I just need

to burst

and have my words

fall like

silent raindrops

on wet leaves.