Mute

I pour over pages not my own
The words are the voice of another
I sit silently
And I have nothing to say
Another book dated, annotated, and placed upon the shelf
Keeping score of my inconsequential accomplishments
And I have nothing to say
My head, filled to the bursting
My heart, brimming over with desire
My hands, burning for a chance
My ink wells are empty
And I have nothing to say
I scream to be heard
Give me a platform
A stage
An audience
A microphone
And I have nothing to say
Tongues are torn out for the confession of contradiction and controversy
Yet there is no heresy greater than the tongue silenced from disuse

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2 responses to “Mute

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