Listen 2nd ed

Why is my brain

Like earbuds tangled

Straight out of

A pocket unorganized?

Distraction like a dog

Hunting down a squirrel

Darting up a tree--

Barking all along the way.

Mood like swings

When we were kids,

But dragging along

The woodchips

Beneath our toes,

Struggling to soar above.

Repetition like a

Broken record,

Broken record,

Broken record,

No record of an end.

Like a tree

Towering over

A crushed rose,

The crumpled petals

Merely a memory

Of what trauma

Occurred before.

A tug-of-war

Between

“Should I speak?”

“Should I share?”

And

“I don’t want to

Burden them.”

“They wouldn’t care.”

If only they were to

Slow

Down,

Consider my

Different way of

Speaking,

And read

What I can't verbalize.

My voice is found

In the place it takes

Care to look

And consideration

To hear.

A Breath of Fresh Air

It's a breath
Of fresh air.

I can
Stroll through
The halls
With a
Real smile
On my face.

For once,
I'm able to leave the
Well-worn mask
At home.

I have the strength
To push away
The voices scrambling
To get to me.
"You're too happy."
"Are your meds
Wearing off?"
"Get that grin
Off your face
And act like
A normal person."

I don't care.
Everything is brighter--
Glowing, even.

I've pulled myself out
Of the quicksand
That I so quickly
Find myself in.

The Power of a Name

Each time
I hear that name,
The one offered to me
By my parents,
A weight is added,
Like someone dropped
A stone into my backpack.

Family gatherings.
Another stone.
A sub taking attendance.
Another stone.
College mail.
Another stone.
Student ID.
Another stone.

But
When I hear MY name,
The one I CHOSE,
A stone is taken out.
A teacher calling MY name.
A stone is taken out.
A friend calling MY name.
A stone is taken out.
A package with MY name.
A stone is taken out.

A name

Is more than

A label.

It is more than

“Bookworm"

Or "chorister".

Each name

Conceals a story.