Originally designed as a slam-based poem, this is a poem about not being able to tell people how you feel.


1. Hacked

I have spent hours contemplating the right way to express the things in my mind.

But no combination of 26 different letters can even begin to explain what this is.

No form of imagery can show the world the things that I see in my head.

No similes or metaphors can bring people to tears like my own thoughts do to me.

No adjective can describe the voices I hear, telling me I'm worthless and insignificant.

And even if I could extract my thoughts and play them like a movie, no one would see it the way I do.

No one would see them like their own, and interpret them like I do.

It's all up there, created by me, but someone fucking hacked my brain and put a password on it,

For when I try and scream out for help, or when I try and write it all down, I keep stopping, and overthinking, and start worrying that it's not right.

Whether I want people to see the things I see in my head,

Whether I want them to be brought to tears,

Whether I want them to hear the voices,

Because If I were them, I wouldn't.




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