May 2015
What an almighty accusation!
A string of words muttered into the spur of the moment.
"You do not talk much, but..."
Do not attempt to free your way out of it, now.
A relentless accusation, that's what it really is.
Do you, Mr Know-It-All, have any idea how
I spent years upon years upon years
trying not to be so encompassed in myself, my own thoughts,
and feelings and constellations, my introversion, and open up?
Do you have any single clue how my plan was perfectly
detailed that I made sure not to go a step backwards?
You should've met me back then. You'd think I was mute.
Have you thought about what it really means to point out
the flaws in a person that they clearly acknowledge
all the intricacies of?
Did you really need to tell me what I already know?
Well, listen to this,
I will not apologize for me being uninterested
in small talk, the weather, and your mentality.
I don't particularly care how well you, neither I for that matter,
did on that hideous, arduous test we had.
I don't exactly fancy group talks where no one truly listens,
nor come up with a certain purpose.
You insanely shallow, shallow person,
I am not into your actions.
I am really not into your body, or eyes either.
Give me sensual meaning, not accusations.
I do not talk much, but when I do,
people listen, even you.
So hear me out now,
next time you tell someone they don't talk much,
make sure there are no stars in the sky
on which they'd be gazing dreamily upon.
Make sure they aren't engulfed in a book
so daunting it hurts.
Make sure they aren't trying with every fiber in their being
to speak up, because they know people like you are scrutinizing,
anticipating their every word to strike.
Make sure they aren't grieving.
Make sure they aren't broken to pieces.
Make sure they are free of all problems in the universe.
Make sure they found enough missing parts of themselves
to go on an adventure of exploring yet another soul.
But most importantly,
make sure they haven't gone downright mad
that they don't give a single **** what you have to say anymore,
********.
A string of words muttered into the spur of the moment.
"You do not talk much, but..."
Do not attempt to free your way out of it, now.
A relentless accusation, that's what it really is.
Do you, Mr Know-It-All, have any idea how
I spent years upon years upon years
trying not to be so encompassed in myself, my own thoughts,
and feelings and constellations, my introversion, and open up?
Do you have any single clue how my plan was perfectly
detailed that I made sure not to go a step backwards?
You should've met me back then. You'd think I was mute.
Have you thought about what it really means to point out
the flaws in a person that they clearly acknowledge
all the intricacies of?
Did you really need to tell me what I already know?
Well, listen to this,
I will not apologize for me being uninterested
in small talk, the weather, and your mentality.
I don't particularly care how well you, neither I for that matter,
did on that hideous, arduous test we had.
I don't exactly fancy group talks where no one truly listens,
nor come up with a certain purpose.
You insanely shallow, shallow person,
I am not into your actions.
I am really not into your body, or eyes either.
Give me sensual meaning, not accusations.
I do not talk much, but when I do,
people listen, even you.
So hear me out now,
next time you tell someone they don't talk much,
make sure there are no stars in the sky
on which they'd be gazing dreamily upon.
Make sure they aren't engulfed in a book
so daunting it hurts.
Make sure they aren't trying with every fiber in their being
to speak up, because they know people like you are scrutinizing,
anticipating their every word to strike.
Make sure they aren't grieving.
Make sure they aren't broken to pieces.
Make sure they are free of all problems in the universe.
Make sure they found enough missing parts of themselves
to go on an adventure of exploring yet another soul.
But most importantly,
make sure they haven't gone downright mad
that they don't give a single **** what you have to say anymore,
********.
Right back at you.
