these words are not mine
they can be heard but don't think i've claimed them
don't believe they're blooming or meaningful
they're not.
they've been given to me
regurgitated from the last person who swallowed
simply put,
they were too much to handle
too easy to choke on
so out they came onto me
they could be meaningful, somewhere
they once were.
but not to me
is that my fault?
that i don't see it like that
that i don't...feel in that way.
that they're important.
how can it be judged,
how can i be judged?
if i am treading glass just to stay alive
just to meet what you see is right
it can be,
it could be,
just not here,
not for me,
not now.
i shouldn't have to.
i know that.
it is true,
it is real,
and i hate that it is ignored regardless.
how can this be free
when you expect what i do not know
what i cannot explain
and it is simply too hard
too many boxes to fill
too many eyes
they won't stop
and still the eggshells splinter
because why would i be good enough
why would anything be good enough
unless it is judged by the unknowns
hidden above and watching
hearing us but only observing
i cannot see it
you might
i don't
and i am,
just quietly,
not trying to.
no kind of ruckus
no need to be hated or loud or angry
there is nothing against us
we're the same
we feel the same
i just don't read it
i just don't shout it
there is nothing wrong
nothing at all
wrong with any, either, both, neither
we think slightly differently
but why let us think for ourselves
when we can be guided
pushed,
dragged, even
until we continue on the path laid there
we should find our meaning
ask our own questions
and think for what we want to believe
whatever it is
whoever we are
no matter what
it comes down to the
choice
choice
choice
that is what i need
and yet they cage it there to taunt me
tempting until there is only an illusion
whispers saying that my voice is heard here
but really, truly,
when will i be safe enough to say it out loud?
i am someone else,
and i did not approve of these requirements.
and i won't.
~
About the Creator
Ruby Red
Heya friend, I'm Red!
I write poetry, so subscribe for a hint of vulnerability, some honesty and the occasional glimpse behind my mask 🌱
Taking a break from Vocal; focusing on my anthology 🫶💖
AI is not art.


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