Lately I’ve been stuck with my thoughts
Which is rare for someone who’s always running out of ink from the many journal entries she has
And with everything going on I would think I would’ve at least written something
But I cant
Nothing comes out and I’m not even sure this counts
Its like my head is going to explode with all the things occurring and no exit for those thoughts to be released
It feels a bit too much
Everything is too much
I’ve had my good days and bad days
But man does it just feel like these days I’m surprised I don’t go crazy and do something stupid
I’m holding it all in
Acting like its all okay when I’m around my friends and family
Its not okay
Nothing is okay
And I’m one who’s a five minutes from now I’ll be okay type person
But I don’t see that happening
I don’t see the light at the end of the tunnel
And I’ve gotten in some pretty deep tunnels
I just feel defeated with myself and the universe and whatever other greater force you choose to believe in
It all feels pretend
If I laugh or smile it feels forced or not even natural
I never thought I would be one of those kids
When did things get like this

I remember the days
where we could laugh and play
in the middle of August.
Those days where the sun
had no bounds. We played

until we couldn't breathe, until
our voices were no more than
shallow sounds lost in the breeze
that carried them until they
lost meaning.

Looking back, I wonder when that day came.
When did those voices fall mute?
When did they die?

Or maybe, are they out there?
Still floating on the wind,
lofty clouds that will never rain?

The uneven bridge stretches on
As calming waves sing a song
My mind floats on ocean sounds
While I rest in metal bounds

The car gallops a gentle hop
The waves crash a muted pop
The window frames a silent view
At my side the people bustle like a crew

The view painted a gentle landscape
The sun kisses the water at its nape
I sight this show from a stage
The bridge never flips the quiet page

And as I approach the bridges end
What awaits a rather sharp bend
The journey only a minute long
Entranced me with its calming song

My friends describe me
as a man of few verbal words.
Funnily, the words are chosen
poorly for someone who
thinks so much about what
a person should and shouldn't say.

Last year, a classmate told me
she would get at least three words
out of me before our study group
quit for the night. I responded,”You lose”.

Burn the one that flies with the raven of midnight hair,
Words in concussive form. altering thoughts of those
Fed syllables of meaning who were under the influence.

No longer a puppet, they are now consumed by what
Expels those corruption. Fire cleanses their body, mind
Purification of  the soul of impurities of word.

She was the whisperer of old moments forgotten, but
Spoken in her diluted tongue, but those of uninformed
Words, silence their saviour, a weapon against word.

They rallied before us, language of hand silent words,
She spoke to no avail, her tongue mesmerizing, but
Weakness to the silent tongue, shackled, sealed, silent.

We were of weakness to even a whisper, but they watched,
Governed over the wordless power. She did burn that night,
And as did so, ravens feathers fell like ash upon the floor.

Muted.
Tongue tied.
That was a clear fact, couldn't be disputed.
To make her voice heard. Countless times she'd tried.
So from now on, a new tactic she has applied.
Head hung low, as she walks in silent stride.
Emotional shutdown: access denied.