I've never liked the word Quiet
The word pulsates through my veins
Clawing at my neck
Flashes in my brain
Etched on my forehead
"You're so quiet."

I sit in the room full of people
Yet I am alone.
They're laughter bubbling up and overfilling the room
Like the cauldron they stir
Full of questions like,
"You don't talk much do you?"
And all I can do is shake my head shamefully.

I want to scream out loud
"Can you hear me now?" I cry out.
I am in this empty cave of oblivion
And all I hear are the taunting echoes
"You're so quiet."
"Speak up."
And all I can do is shake my head shamefully.