Sometimes it all feels like I'm listening to a foreigner talk in an unrecognizable language.
Every sentence seems like an entirely too long word, syllables merging together and making me unable to tell where each one begins and ends. I can only make out the bigger picture, the anger behind their tone or the eagerness in their face, but it still means listening intently to what might as well be nonsense.
It’s talking and not being understood. It’s trying to make sense of something I can’t wrap my head around. It’s being a foreigner in my own house.
Apr 28, 2018
Apr 28, 2018 at 3:48 PM UTC
Sometimes it all feels like I'm listening to a foreigner talk in an unrecognizable language.
Every sentence seems like an entirely too long word, syllables merging together and making me unable to tell where each one begins and ends. I can only make out the bigger picture, the anger behind their tone or the eagerness in their face, but it still means listening intently to what might as well be nonsense.
It’s talking and not being understood. It’s trying to make sense of something I can’t wrap my head around. It’s being a foreigner in my own house.
