if i wake up mute


I can’t speak, or
Yell in frustration to ears sown shut
To tenderness alike
//obstinacy is a powerful reflector

However shall I squeeze myself into that waiting grave when I’ve been
Robbed of my faculties to
Lay myself bare, vulnerable to rejection and
Unreciprocation-
Barren nirvana is the only song I sing

But the greatest tragedy:
Being deprived of the unbridled joy of
Destruction by my lashing tongue-
Widened, glistening eyes that sparkle
Brighter than they ever have, the
Magic these words seem to conjure.

I can’t speak, but
The sun seems to shine just a little brighter.

.

.

.

(This is a sarcastic play on the negativity of speech, and how, at some point, we have all succumbed to it or experienced it)

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