Shut up and Shut out

Kelly Grace Thomas


Sometimes when you have nothing to say

it is time to listen.

Not to the voices, or deadlines that keep you treading water in

this expectant sea,

where you doggy paddle in salty waves, struggling against this emotional hurricane.

Not to the watchdog of waiting

who has swallowed all the measuring sticks and alarm clocks

ticking and taunting, the teasing of time.

Not to that angry alligator trapped in your canoe

weighing you down, tipping your thoughts with its snap jaw and force fed societal thirst.

There are so many voices that build those bars stronger,

words thicker.

Stuck like lead to our hearts,

tar to our souls.

Cement the decoupages each memory, tone, pitch, place, snapshot

in this rising tide of insecurity.

The voices knocking you down.

A lowered tone of a mother when you’ve said something you know you shouldn’t have.

The slow and sweet honey-tipped words of a lover turned into rushed mumbles and

absent explaniations 

you only hear the end of.

The skipping track of your inner-monolouge breaking you with every comparison from 

first morning thoughts to good night prayers.

You cannot listen to all the voices who hide in the backyard, or scream when the thunder

claps shakes.

So sometimes you leave things unfinished.

Sometimes you walk away, no matter how loud they scream.

Because one day, after you fix all the broken parts of yourself

afflicted by these accents.

You will no longer have to scream for they

will be listening to you.