If my voice were loud enough
I’d climb the tallest mountain
And shout from the top
If my voice were loud enough
I’d tell everyone what I need them to hear
If my voice were loud enough
I’d scream through cities and suburbs
A ghostly voice echoing through buildings
And subway tunnels
If my voice were loud enough
You’d never stop hearing me
Because if I could be heard
I would be heard
But my voice isn’t loud enough
Because I’m 14
Because I’m Hispanic
Because I’m queer
Because I’m a girl
Because I’m just one girl
But if we all use our voices
A million different voices
Clamoring to be heard
We just might be loud enough

making sure you could hear me
was never the problem
the problem

was being listened to

i needed to think less about
whether i’m being too
troublesome

and start thinking more about
what i can do to be
influential

i was born to leave
a big crater wherever i stand
a sign that i am just as thundering as you

i construct my words
to be deafening
to make your ears ring and your eyes water

i was taught to make my ideas
the thoughts you lust after
the kind that are both confident and emphatic

because its always better to be
powerful

than to be
voiceless

He stalks like a cat.
Then he roars aloud to scare out their attempts.
He is bringing swinging claws.
Swinging from his metal paws.

He only wants the human his master thinks.
To rip apart their work stink.
His brothers rumble the ground.
They also fly from the sky circling around.

Remembering the sounds of cries of the past.
Just like his brothers to sneak a midnight snack.
Not only that but the pesky insects that feed.
As they try to fight to end a world of greed.

Roaring once more at the parasites host.
Only one can save them to grow.
He throws another roar to the wind.
To be, feed, his fill of skin.

Not to be hated but always feared by his foes.
He will go wherever his scent will go.
Try another round of joe.
What he thinks no one will ever know.

Right now we have all we need.
After the far cry is heard he is swift at the deed.
Try again and again to ravage the pain.
What he finds out might make you go insane.

Words,
Sometimes it’s sweet to be heard
It makes heart beating fast yet smiling in the face
At first we dwell it in our minds till we forget it
Words,
Sometimes it hurt to be felt
Tears which tumble from eyes,
Hearts which broken into pieces
And its recall in our mind for our lifetime


Words,
Who has said it will forget
Who has heard it will remember
Once you spilled it,
It will never take it back

In the middle of the night
as the breeze soothes the mind.
A lonely owl steps out to the light,
leaving his nest behind.
The moon shines
and the wind blows.
A nightingale hymns
while the gaslight glows.

Nocturnal creative artists at work.
The night fuels their quirk.
Then a sudden cacophony disturbs the air.
A noise no one can bare.
From a distance it can be heard.
It whistles, but it is not a bird.

It slows as it reaches its destination.
Breaking through the peace with its whistle.
The train stops as it reaches the station.

I can not write.
My hands ****** in time.
I scream at pixels,
some dead in the corner.
I want to open up.  
Let it pour out as an ocean,
until overwhelming empty.
Composure must be kept,
as this is an art with structure.
The words must perform,
as dancers do before an audience.
As they read this,
it is only half of what is felt.
They can’t smell the rot,
that infects backstage.
The nagging screams,
that would make the world deaf.
Or be blinded by black,
during the bright of day.
I just want to be felt.
Release the tension,
of societies chains.
Or your chains perhaps.
They choke,
my voice,
inhibit my steps.
I want to just run.
Each send is a cry,
in a soundless megaphone.
Can I reach them?
Does this reach you?
I can’t write anymore.
Press send.
Scream.