Oh, yes.
So eloquent in writing.
I could be the perfect person behind any page.
I have all the time,
All the resources.
I can relate to anyone
And I can make any literate person love me.
But as soon as I open my mouth…
Nothing.
And their faces…
They are disgusted.
Like I have done something horrible
Like when I spoke
Something hideous poured out,
Something cold and ugly and vile
Something…
Silent.
And they just stare
And they stare
Because they cannot understand me.
Because I do not speak their language.
And, in a world where everyone speaks the same language
And I do not…
I am alone.
