Push.  

Push.

Push.

The weight collapses on top of me.
A haze blinding from all directions.
Steps slow as if wading through mud.

Breath escapes in little bubbles as if I’m drowning.
Thoughts flying and seeds being planted.

I’m searching, searching, searching for that rope to pull me out.
I only hope it withstands this weight and saves me from this horrible fate.

In some ways I guess I’m looking for validation.
Having peers and even strangers give me confirmation,
That my thoughts and ideas bring some sort of gratification.

I’m slowly learning to just do what brings me joy.
With little thought or questions for how it will be received.
If I can read it through and feel it truly conveys me,
Then that’s all I want to achieve

I hide behind this pseudonym,
It protects me from judgement.
No praise, nor complaint can reach me
when I hide behind this pseudonym.

I can use the words however I wish
With no concern for how they reflect on me.
This pseudonym allows me to speak my mind,
the words just flowing as I slowly unwind.

This pseudonym is a part of me
The parts that I don’t always allow to be seen.
My friends and family might not understand
But part of me doesn’t want to be found.

It’s my choice who sees these words
My choice who hears these thoughts
My choice who learns of this little pseudonym
Who always stands to protect what’s within.

I can feel them.
Banging! On the big steel wall.
Their sounds are muffled never quite taking shape.

I press my ear right up close
to see if I can    just.        get.         one.
One little breakthrough and I know it will break the dam.

My frustration is building,
because I have these ideas,
but that means nothing,
when I can’t get them down.

Words don’t fit together right.
Or translate the way that I’d like.
There’s this massive block within my mind.
I wish I could just make it say goodbye.

Life’s not like how it used to be,
When you’d go outside and climb a tree
then fall over and scrape your knee.
You’d get back up and dust yourself off.
Look around for your next adventure
Until the street lights turned on
Signalling it’s time for dinner.

Now heads are buried in screens
Making sure everybody is isolated.
Kids no longer have laughs outside
Screaming and crying if the internet dies.

I wish we could go back to how life used to be.
To show the kids of today all the possibilities.
That not everything is found in a screen,
all they need to do is dream.
The possibilities are truly endless
If only they wanted to see.

The words refuse to come out
getting all twisted and tangled about.
I wish I could speak what was in my mind
but we never sit and take the time.

I want to share these stories with you
whilst we take a walk and look at the views.
Slowly wander down this winding path
if only I could make it last.

I feel you fading and drifting away from me  
making me realise what you meant to me.
It’s too late now for me to go back
and with that my heart begins to crack.

If tears could speak would they be quiet whispers, barely audible? Or LOUD CRASHES with every splash on the skin?
Would they sing you a sad melody or tell a story to draw you in?

If tears could write would they tell of lost loved ones or simply a fight? Would they recall battles with others or just from within?

But, tears cannot speak, nor write, they simply fall. They create a path of their own choosing. Silently slipping down your face.  Yet they are so loud in your mind that you constantly wonder….
What if a tear could speak?