I cannot communicate without a pen in my hand
And constant moving pictures of a dreamland
I cannot speak outside of a piece of paper
Emotions, opinions, thoughts, and truths are components to which I taper
They are the ones who crush my lungs to make me mute
My tongue has vanished and my face is smothered by a makeshift suit
It makes the physically impossible situation of uttering a word
My head becomes completely barren, so no thoughts could be caught by the sword
When I am in the place that makes me gone
The biggest truth I could ever mutter is “I don’t know”, but no one seems to catch on
It means I have so many things to say that “I don’t know” means I don’t know where to begin
That moment where I believe I have something, so I start to move my chin
But my words are a silent breath, leaking out of my closed, frozen lips
For someone to understand my struggle and pain behind this would be as rare as an eclipse