Muted

I am brimming with words.

I feel lines composing within me,

Countless speeches dictating,

Articulating,

To the inner regions of my mind.

 

On paper words tumble,

They are declared with repose,

Here my expression is not pryed upon,

Frowned upon,

By those judging eyes.

 

I paint myself a world to hide in,

This abstract beauty is my freedom,

But reality commands my reinstatement,

So I went,

It mutilated my land with logic and reason.

 

I scrawl my doctrine on the back of my eyelids,

I discover it etched in the dark as I sleep,

But I cannot verbalize it,

Embody it,

As forever I am muffled by this scrutiny.

 

It manifests and mutates,

My mind begins to suffocate itself,

Silence opresses me,

I cannot see,

I know it will never leave.

The End

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