My words are seldom,
Barely a whisper,
Lost in the wind of literacy,
I am entirely sure,
I am afraid to be heard.

The truth is hard to swallow,
Like a gulp of cough syrup,
We gag it down.

Words will taste bitter on your tongue,
Like the cough syrup,
We choke on the words we wish to speak.

But swallow the truth whole,
And bring your words forth,
Do not make the same mistake as me:

Be heard.

These words are truth,
My pen speaks words,
when I cannot,
interpret my heart's convictions.


These words are truth,
The angry poison,
that I may speak,
stemming from spite,
and unhinged feelings,
are not.


These words are truth,
When you doubt yourself or me,
When the tunnel vision,
prevents clear sight.


These words are truth,
When you feel broken,
when you cannot see,
how incomparable you truly are.


These words are truth,
You know them well,
and they will always be.