DYING TO BE HEARD

My brain thinks too much all the time. I turn on music and a thousand memories rush back, memories I don’t want to remember, so I write to express myself the best way I know how to. Words flow, my fingers glide across the keys as my soul pours into the words appearing on the screen. As I read what I write I understand that I will never fully have what I crave most in the world. My thoughts to be read and understood. I ache to be understood and heard. Maybe it’s not my reality to be discovered, my words may never leave my computer.

I may look back one day and laugh at how silly I sound as I talk about how I have a hunger to share my thoughts. Here is my voice that is yet to be heard.For days I have searched, for nights I have wondered; does the concept still bring peace of mind or for have I gone astray. Will my brain continue to remember or will the thought just become numb. Does life cycle or just find new victims? I ponder the thought as I drift off into my own reality that I will let consume me while my eyes lie closed for time being.

The day grows as the morning light peaks from within my window, if one single look could deceive this would be it. Peaceful this life looks as the thought of reality sends a sharp pain to my mind, where once no thoughts of the outer world had even been before.

For the deliberation I could once create a world to be my own has now deceived me. I walk in line one foot behind the other. In what world could my thoughts be my own? Who once thought that the inner walls of my life would be fulfilled with the idea of wonder but does the wonder keep me going or just make my mind busy for the moments that pass us by. My words inter my thoughts as the world fill my sight. For now, my desire to be acknowledged will lay at ease as I have someone who gives me everything I’ve ever wanted out of life.

I need no more than him but my eager soul is dying to be understood by people. My writing is becoming a reality as he consumes my happiness. He helps crave the hunger to be heard, understood, but I will always have a dying passion burning inside of me to share what I am best at, which is writing.To the kids dying to be heard this is for you.
Anonymous
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