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.