talking

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I'm sitting on your bedroom floor talking about nothing but how could I not want more?   you're laying in bed telling me about your latest fantasy asking if the same thoughts are running in his head
It happened so long ago it really is blurry.  On hearing the news I cutt off, zoned out, and detached from who I really was.  I just couldn't go there - not in one go. 
Talking is exhausting. I have to force myself to be eloquent, to say it right To speak clearly and attentively So much energy is used.  
I don’t enjoy speaking out In social situations The unfamiliar – thinly veiled- And uncomfortable Trembling in my voice As I say something that does not sound – does not Emit – what I want to say and
I'm not going to write about you anymore I can't they're all sick of you and it's all my fault when I talk about you I want to scream that they're not listening they don't pay attention anymore
Since when has speech become akin to sex? All accountability falls out, lifeless, writhing On the floor in a snake’s pattern.
You know We’ve been faced with assignments in middle school Dealing with subjects like Reading, Math, history And writing too
I used to talk to trees. Often I sought their branches to hold me when I felt my body to small to contain what I held. They would talk me back into it- taught me how to grow inside a husk 
My own words have been stuck Between esophagus and windpipe too many times before Leading to glassed over eyes and lost attentions   You have to understand these knots of fragmented declarations choke me.
I apologize that my tongue does not  flap the way yours does   I’m sorry my vernacular does not meet your standards   My southern twang drips sparingly from
 
I smile in hope they will stop staring. I smile in hope that they will see the beauty I see when I look in the mirror. I smile in hope to make someone's day.
What am I underneath it all? I am afraid, of new, of alone, of failure.
I told you because you asked, And I asked you not to tell anyone.   It dosen't matter what I told you, Wheather I'm sick or not, The problem is You went and told God and everyone
They live inside my mind take shelter in all its corners weave themselves in my veins and race each other to my mouth dodging the filters of my teeth they slide down my tongue
To change a world that has yet to find its place amongst the Universe, would be a challenge to its inhabitance.
Dear, dear my dearest teacher,There is something that you must hearAll of the students enjoy their talkingTheir mouths will not stop walking,
They don't realize how luckythey arethat their lipsand words agreewhile I'm stuck herewith this pentrying to mke sense of everything
I be You be We be but we don't hear each other because you see the words that I say that don't communicate how I feel because they are words on a 1 1/2 glowing screen.
You sit there Trying your hardest to pay attention All of your friends are in the class They don't know that you're secretly a book worm You're stuck with the question Do I tell them to be quiet or join in?
I was once something that carried a message with ideas, emotions, and a purpose, made from thoughts. For only a short time do I exist to serve my purpose, 
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