I open my open. I know what I want to say. But you give me one look. And the words are lost in a somersault of what’s useless and not required.
My words are not required.
Not by any of you.
Whenever I open my mouth to speak I immediately hear the sound of your voice, stating, asking, pleading. The words that escape from my mouth only bring comfort to you, as I wait in line, wait for my turn, when someone will ask me what I want to say and hear it patiently.
When I speak I don’t want it to be after you’ve pulled a face because you don’t like it. Don’t ask me to speak after you’ve pre established that someone’s not worth it and I’m simply wasting my words on them. For even if they were, all I am asking you is to listen and maybe ask me first if I have something to say.
Don’t listen to me because its an obligation. Don’t listen to me because otherwise it will ruin our relation. Don’t pretend like you’re listening when we all know you’re just wandering among the clouds.
I have been trying to figure people out lately. And I found them to be utterly selfish, myself not excluded. And somehow I’ve realized that I am okay with that. Like there’s any option. So the times you do pay attention, I won’t believe you. The times you say you’re actually there, I’ll only smile because I’m not going to hold you against it. Don’t worry, I’m blaming it all on human nature. Not on you.
I’m only tired of being there for every single being I can. And I trusted you to hear my words. But you asked. Never bothered. Never even thought I might need to let them out.
But how does it even matter, right.
I have learnt to live with the pain, and the silence of numerous speeches I’d prepared in my head because you never allowed me to speak.