There’s a difference between hearing and listening
For 19 years, I heard my voice
As sweet as honey
As smooth as a baby's skin
With an alto voice range
It rang in my head through the day and night
By plenty conversations I had with peers and family alike
See, I sounded sophisticated
Like a classy woman who knows her value
I sounded professional with big words I learned
From many novels I fancied
But I didn't listen to my voice
I heard the authority
I know what I said and I heard what I spoke
One day I decided to listen to my voice
I wrote a poem to a 14 year old
Telling baby girl to not be so shy
Telling baby girl to not be afraid to be herself
Telling baby girl that she's a precious diamond who didn't burst
Under the pressure that surrounded her
And I listened
And understood why some say women like me are too loud
They know our voices will cause shifts
And make some changes
I ignored them and wrote more
I performed at open mics
I listened to the raw talent and the voice I ignored
My attention was caught by the voice I was blessed with
Just like loud thunder and lightning
It boomed and caused many to listen to me
My voice needs to be heard and will continue to be heard
For as long as I can
My voice will sustain me
After all, my voice doesn't lie to me
-Mia J
11/9/2018
© 2018 Mia J

When my tears dry
And my sobs cease
Do not mistake it for me calming down.
I've simply realised that you cannot hear my screams
And will say everything but the words I need to hear

When my tears stop
And my sobs fall silent
Do not think I'm doing better.
It just means I've changed the locks
And will continue to break where your gaze won't wander

When my tears shatter
And my sobs lose breath
You will hear everything in that silence
For the ending will be laid out before you
In a casket that will echo my story

Did you even hear me?
   I heard every single me, humbled?

By Listening We hear,
but often forget—
The fragility of half murmured ideas
signal lost in a tide of noise.

Talking overshadows listening,
Loud, brash, and always there.
listening creates by transforming.
A friend listens,
and a conversation
Turns to something extraordinary.

We roar, we scream, we sing,
But listening eludes description—
its shape unclear until all words are heard

What if we thought
of ourselves as listeners?
compliant, unresisting
designed to receive the world?
Would it change us?

Would our own language then expand
to hold the weight of both
silence and sound?
cosmos made clearer
by this unseen gift.

Imagine yourself a receiver of grace,
Open to everything,
even the dark matter of thought.

I tire this new morning,
I slept not a wink tonight.

For there is a lonely woman,
Who sings out in woesome plight.

Her voice creeps to my window,
And haunts my slumb'ring ear,
And I am shot awake in fear.

Listening for the lonesome cry,
Of the Lady of the Night.

How do I know God listens,
I don't.
He could,
He couldn't.
But I'd guess he does,
Because when I wished not to suffer it was,
And whence I wished for love it was,
But not without my hand in work,
Tilling God's land.

My Inner Critic
I've misunderstood you far too long
I used to think you ginormous
But I see you're actually small.

You're not a beast I need to hide from
But a child I must protect
Your poisonous tongue was cursed to you
From years of abuse and neglect.

When you're scared, you can be scary
To get attention, you yell mean things
You bring something up over and over again
When you know that I'm not listening.

When I look, you're stuck and screaming
Like you felt and could never express
You see danger and no one will listen
I shut you down like all of the rest.

Sweet one, I'm sorry I ran from you
I misjudged your might and will
Now I've grown and understand better
No one ever taught you the skills.

Instead you learned to fear your big feelings
Because they made you bad and unloveable
But your feelings are valid and helpful to hold
You're on fire, but you're not combustible.

The rage that electrifies your skin
Makes sense and will not destroy you
We can redirect, run through it's end
Then, together, decide what to do.

You screamed that you wanted to die
But we dyed our hair instead
You wanted to take your own life
So we've taken it into our own hands.

Big feelings will always wash over us
I know sometimes that feels like too much
But now I'll listen and we can make choices
That won't harm either of us.

I am in love with the Way you speak
the Way your mouth moves when you say my name
the Way your throat thrums when you moan at your peak
the Way your tongue touches the roof of your mouth
and down to your teeth
and your teeth
gently grazes your bottom lip
To produce sound

You tell me I should listen more.