I am the question no one wants to hear,
Raised voices and racing thoughts, always near,
A trembling flame behind too bright eyes
I laugh, I ache, I overflow, I apologize.
I am the diary page that tears at midnight,
Ink smudged by saltwater, words that fight
To be spoken but always seem too raw,
Too sharp, too honest, too much of a flaw.
I am the echo in an empty hallway,
Craving to belong, shrinking anyway,
My heart is a thunderclap, breaking the hush
Too intense, too loud, too quick to blush.
They say, “Be softer. Be less. Be small.”
But I am the storm, answering the call
Of every feeling I’m told to hide
Too much hope, too much hurt, too much pride.
So I gather my too muchness, piece by piece,
Learning, each day, I am not a disease.
I am the wild bloom, the sun after rain
Too much for some, but enough for my pain.
May 15
May 15, 2026 at 9:48 PM UTC
I am the question no one wants to hear,
Raised voices and racing thoughts, always near,
A trembling flame behind too bright eyes
I laugh, I ache, I overflow, I apologize.
I am the diary page that tears at midnight,
Ink smudged by saltwater, words that fight
To be spoken but always seem too raw,
Too sharp, too honest, too much of a flaw.
I am the echo in an empty hallway,
Craving to belong, shrinking anyway,
My heart is a thunderclap, breaking the hush
Too intense, too loud, too quick to blush.
They say, “Be softer. Be less. Be small.”
But I am the storm, answering the call
Of every feeling I’m told to hide
Too much hope, too much hurt, too much pride.
So I gather my too muchness, piece by piece,
Learning, each day, I am not a disease.
I am the wild bloom, the sun after rain
Too much for some, but enough for my pain.
I originally wrote this for one of today's prompts, but accidentally used too many characters and didn't want to change it.
Request permission to use this poem