Through the years, I have existed in silence -
I have existed in the silent corners of my room,
Waiting for something I am not quite certain of.
I have existed in unfamiliar rooms,
Living with people I am not quite acquainted with.
Through the years, I was silent -
Was it because of nature? or maybe, nurture?
Was I a silent kid or was I a kid who was silenced?
Through the years, there was nothing but thoughts and words,
they would overflow,  overpower me.
In the corners of my room are crumbled papers;
In the unfamiliar rooms are shaky hands and heart palpitations.
For the years to come, we do the same, we wait -
but no, not in silence, not inside the familiarity of the corners of the room.
For the years to come: we speak, we shout.
For the years to come, we live.