I have something to say
about what we don’t say.
We don’t talk about the things
that make me sad,
they just quietly roll
as tears
down my face.
We don’t talk about the things
that make me happy,
what I want to sprinkle
like shiny confetti
on everyone I see.
We don’t talk about the things
that make me frustrated,
what I want to shout
from the top of a mountain
to change.
We don’t talk about the things
that come with ease,
the things we take for granted
every day.
We don’t talk about the things
that make me mad,
words I want to shoot
like arrows
at those who earned them.
We don’t talk about the things
that bring me joy,
the glimmers happening
to us and the people
all around us.
We don’t talk about the things
that make me feel lonely,
it sits quietly
as an ache
behind my ribs.
We don’t talk about the things
that make me feel deeply loved,
my heart beating so loud
I can hear it
in my ears.
We don’t talk about the past
that haunts us.
It waits to scare us
around every corner
of our minds.
We don’t talk about the becoming
of who we are.
The walls are too high
and our armor
too thick.
We don’t talk about the fear
of losing ourselves.
We quietly hold onto
what little we can
in this chaotic world.
We don’t talk about
the ache of love inside of us,
how close it comes sometimes
to being spoken
before we both
look away.
Instead, we talk about things
that won’t matter when we are gone.
money.
work.
the weather.
who we don’t like.
and why.
I carry so many words
and nowhere for them to land.
So I speak them
only to myself.
I have something to say.
But we have
nothing at all
to talk about.
That is what I have to say
about what we don’t say.