I can't talk

I'm bad at talking,

and where mundane words fail to show my intelligence,

my insite

my intellect

I dont shy away

I just turn my eyes

to poetry.

Where I can't say 

my opinions of my mothers critisism 

and whether I deserve them

for fear of being critisized further

I turn

to paper.

When I dont even understand

the things that fall from

lips that cant work

in cohesiveness

with a brain

my hands translate in a beautiful way.

And from there, 

to a page

its like a curse is lifted

and every single phrase

everyone reads from me

finally makes sense.

When I can't talk

poetry speaks for me.