I’m torn in two.
The need to say something battles the need for peace.
I want to fight.
I don’t want to fight.
I want to educate.
I want to let them be ignorant.
I’m tired of the arguing.
Tired of the yelling.
Tired of the passive aggressive comments.
Tired of the closed-mindedness.
I’m tired of keeping my mouth shut.
I’m tired of them not listening.
So much is misunderstood.
So much is dismissed.
So much willfully unseen.
What was that about not being able to see your own privilege?
I want to be free.
Scratch that. I want my words to be free.
They stir inside me.
They are anxious to be heard.
I feel the flutter in my stomach.
I feel the pounding in my head.
They beat against my skull.
They echo in my ears.
They swirl in my gut.
My teeth clench in an effort to keep them in.
Maybe one day I’ll speak.
Maybe one day I’ll break the silence.
They think I’ve done this already, but they have no idea.
Maybe one day my words will slay the bubble they live in.
Maybe one day my words will spew.
Maybe one day my words will break the ground.
Maybe one day my words will get through.
Maybe one day I can free my words.