sometimes i find it difficult to express myself aloud. it is not that my mouth is incapable of forming these words, but that i continually fear my speech will never communicate my intentions, that it will never be sufficient, regardless of how hard i try. i have spoken to people in the past and have not been successful. i have been left. i have been hurt, as have we all, and i have cried, and i have grieved, and i have laughed and lost.
these days i do not talk any more. it is not a delusion or an abnormality but a life choice. i find this silence simplifies things for me, i find it allows me to listen more to others talk and to the world around me. and if i cannot talk i cannot slip up, and i will never be left again because i stand aside from those who could hurt me. they cannot touch me now.
i love my music. it is my saving grace, my safe haven, my sole refuge. it is beautiful and wonderful and the only thing i have left.
the time has come, the walrus said,
to talk of many things:
of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--
of cabbages--and kings--
and why the sea is boiling hot--
and whether pigs have wings.
Code by Neekoe | Get it at Trapeze