It’s open space.

I keep hearing words
no mouths around
nothing left to sew shut
no doors to open
no doors to close
it’s open space
standing outside
the words keep on speaking
no lips to come from
they’re just there
are the birds talking
no I don’t think so
are the words my own
a needle in one hand
the other against my lips
I feel the stitches
not a single missing
no words to slip
no words to escape
where are they now
I feel it
I hear it
I know it
I can’t stop thinking it
all the fears
I’ve never lived
but I fear it
I think it
I want it all gone
all the hate
I can feel it
heavily it rains
are the clouds slipping their secrets
it isn’t all the secretive is it
we all know
we all feel it
we all over think it
the moment our eyes open
what are we thinking
our brains filled of those around us
their words creating us
shaping our hearts
feeding us with their pain
shoveling it down throats
forcing us to relive it
to think it
to hear it
fear and hate
it intertwines
and regardless of the past
the enemy is whom
separates by appearance
rather then the inner most heart.

Thanks for reading.
-Temperamentally Tina

Published by Tina

I am a mother that is passionate about early education and a person that relieves stress through art, and writing.

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