Listen is silent with different positions

L I S T E N

To me.

I am a normal human being just like everyone else. I talk I eat I sleep I breathe,

It just seems like I’ve ceased to exist since I was put on the earth. Like...As if I was placed here for no reason at all, Like when a frantic mother late for work runs out her home, forgetting her keys on the shelf where she’s never actually put them before.

Forgotten.

A word that’s been placed up on a pedestal in the english language, Used for blame as to why he didn’t give her flowers on their anniversary.

Forgotten.

Forgotten like the next line of this poem which broke three nails to write because the tears couldn’t reveal what i was writing and i wrote off the page and onto the desk below.

Forgotten.

Like me.

Listen is silent is with its letters rearranged. It's the same word, but hard to consider. You can listen if you are silent but if you stay silent no one will listen. No one will listen. No one will listen to silence.

Silence is golden, that’s the saying isn’t it?But I’m the complete opposite of whatever golden is, And yet i am the embodiment of pure silence, and that’s what my existence feels like. Every time i open my mouth words don’t come out. Apparently since whatever my peers are hearing isn’t what I’m saying. I have been trying to since day one, Screaming and yelling to the point of the moment when my voice cracks like the california desert, like the earthquakes building up in Aloha Oregon and I have no control over. When my girlfriend is hurt Because the quake is 5 years overdue. The only reason I know this is because the texted to me, since she too is one of the people who can't hear me. The quakes...Dying to erupt it’s dangerous rumbling explosions. Explosions are the least of my worries Because Maybe that will make them hear me for once. Instead i hold everything back And I scream and then fall to my knees, Taking in the cold, dead feeling of the prison of isolation and abandonment. The prison in which i grew up was called public school And lunches consisted of the entire grade level packed into one cafeteria like sardines At least that’s what it smelled like. The sound was too loud and I could never hear myself think So i raised my voice Higher and louder and higher I raised my thoughts up so one day they could possibly be heard

And I just kept speaking in this volume hoping one day, Some day, Someone would hear me, But my opinions and my doubts and my memories but now nothing even is audible to anyone around me, Either that or no one has ever cared and the likelihood of them caring is so low that I may have to bury my expectations down there with their cares. I ask all the time are you sick of it, They give me a list of all the reasons they’re sick And I’m never on that list on what should be avoided which is surprising because I was brought up learning that lying is a sin, and that sinning would get you to hell, But never had I ever considered that i was already there Since day one I’ve never been heard i’ve never been thought about or considered for anything. Promises directed to me have been broken so now I’m in so many pieces I can’t even been seen any longer.

Things that aren’t seen anymore are pushed aside by little children growing out of their favorite childhood playtoy, Gone with faded memories that are on the brink of simply washing away, So I move to the back of the room, where the things that don’t belong are pushed into the prop closet. And I don’t dare say a word. And yet, when i say nothing others say something, acting like they’re concerned about my well being asking why I’m so silent and when I’m speaking I’m being too loud. What are you asking of me? You want me to speak don’t listen anyway talking over me like the already dying background jazz music in a restaurant disregarding anything I arrange with my voice. Music is an arrangement but isn’t the voice an arrangement as well? The voice is music, So when I ask anyone for their personal taste in music i say Not me Because the composition is so fractured And the composer didn't show up So I'm left alone on the stage in the dark Changing props on a table illuminated by the ghost lights of the abandoned auditorium Because my voice is too awful to be the one throwing her voice amongst the seats. I tell everyone I found my calling behind the curtain But the truth is I faced the fact that I'll never truly have my voice heard by an audience as if the sound is poison and is far too toxic for anyone to really pay attention. But now I don't speak at all, I stay in silence wherever I go because now anything and everything I say means absolutely nothing to anyone around me, flies circle around my head like the piece of utter forgotten trash that I've always been, resting in the corner for someone else to deal with, because I'm someone else’s problem now. And now...I'm

S I L E N T

Like I was meant to be.