I'm still a little soft
I grab my waist and feel the softness of my belly
I sneer at it

I've never once been fully satisfied
from the way I talk to people
my words are constantly mixed
up from the insecurities
from growing up
with knowing how to speak well
and how to properly construct
a sentence with the correct
pronunciation...
but every time I speak I feel
like every thought that comes out
is a question.

I don't know how to speak,
but I know how to stay silent.

I forgot how to stand up
because I was always taught
to sit down.