Without words, I am naked; I am voiceless
My self is bare; the object of stares
So painstakingly, I weave with words a dress
A disguise that never will suffice
For my face still betrays my thoughts
There’s still nudity in my eyes
There’s no scream left; my voice is hoarse
And so I write to make things right
It’s what I tell myself. I try
To robe myself in poetry
Will comfort come? I’ll hope and see
Advertisements
