In-between

The silence I overcome in my writing,

the judgments I flipped with my voice,

didn't realize I would land myself in a conference of trouble,

until knocked at my door was a proof of a sample,

defined by the members of my rambles,

the life I didn't say a word about, but everyone around assumed and confirmed,

fascinating it seemed, the amount of time spent,

to even point out in the first place,

the pressured hold on the inking to say,

Everything in here, is all okay.

/

Yet I hate myself standing in such a space, 

sharing with the known and the unfamiliar face,

learning that I undoubtedly, involuntarily, carry the impact all along,

the subtle aches in my bulged-out body,

masking the wounds of kindness to empathize,

/

My words started to hurt,

my scent fumed in its sweat,

stress ballooning my chest,

paused a little bit to breathe,

/

What I recognized was the voice of my writing,

/

With tears striking like a thunderstorm,

rising rage to shout at its peak,

a handful of pages kept discreet,

but choked and kneeled to the ground,

shutting down the sounds,

to kill the voice piling up beneath,

I lay down not knowing where to lead,

but the flow of thoughts to pen down never agreed,

/

With eyes on the ground,

I chose not to look, 

to face the burns that shook,

the mouth to babble the randomness,

surfacing to escape the plot of piling darkness,

/

I face the light of piling grip,

boiling down into pages of numerous trips,

I steal my show with the strength of my pen,

defining my lines with unfiltered climb,

not knowing where the route takes,

nor the destination it awaits,

but I am nowhere to be seen, 

in the midst of cloudy sheen,

/

Call me a confused wreck,

floating around with no direction to start,

but holding my steps consciously back,

with the fear of my own lines whistling in the path,

buzzing in my ears and eyes,

somewhere in between here and there,

/

I fail to stand, still, wondering,

about the drive of the above mind,

the very intent to start this thought,

witnessing the above past lines,

reverberating, my voice inked to claim, what!