Words Unsaid

Words Unsaid

A Poem by PoeticFury

I am locked in my mind.

With words that I could never speak.

Either I was to young or it was not the right time.

I have been strapped in this straight jacket known as my body forced together by shackles to my feet.

I would fall into fantasy every single time I was about to....explode...

I would always do what I was told..

Follow every rule when all along I had the negative thoughts in my head things I could not control.

Following the so call honorable code.

Now its time to speak these words that were unspoken.

I would be put down by what I cared for lost but never found.

To this point it was never even talked about. It only took my breath away and left me choking.

I would always say what was best for the others.

Having no one to rely on myself no sisters no brothers.

Nicknamed V-O-C I guess that is what you can call me.

Not a voice of customers..

Nor voice over credits, but a victim of circumstances who would constantly give out, but never take chances. There was nothing to edit.

I was always a P-O-W being charged taking from me my emotions and feelings it came directly out of me like debit I was treated like the plastic card.

Not a prisoner of war, but a prisoner of this world.

While all along I had words that were unspoken.

Though I never really felt cared for at first.

The good that I would receive would always turn into some form of worse.

Being me I guess was my biggest fear.

Although learning who I am was my one resolution that never came no matter the new time, new day, or new year.

Why?

I believe that if I fully came clear.

The person that you know would not be who you have come to know here.

Though I would always substitute the true internal reactions with external personal reactions rather it was screams or tears.

So would you rather see my fucked on a drug?

Left underneath the earths oceans floor like a bug under the rug.

Of my unspoken words...

As I dig deeper and deeper... walking along this edgy icy hot life looking up at what I am climbing down as it gets steeper and steeper.

As losing my inner strength that gets weaker and weaker.

Going to places to find peace within me to release onto my old wall of my past words inside its shelf.

Scraping up pencil and paper digging deeper to find pieces of me for peace for self.

One day wishing for peace in myself.

As I try not to go back where I came.

As if it would make you feel better maybe.

Lock me in the insane asylum if I am that crazy.

The two face people I wish I can make them turn the other cheek.

The liars who buy into what they are forced to like buyers.

When there is a little girl on the corner unloved with only a dollar in her hand who can barely talk and a sign that says help me written on her fliers.

Those bars of unspoken words are my creation.

That makes me who I am in time of conversation.

I fight to learn.

To not take but accept being rewarded and earned.

To truly be nice

Wishing that things like black vs white.

Day and night...

Killing after a fight..

Would all just not exist where it can always be alright.

Though no longer do I want to be the one.

Who got walked on I don't want to walk on, but I want to become more strong.

Where I can walk on my own.

As I share my feelings of what is now spoken outside of this serotonin and bone structure known as my mind aka the twenty one year caution zone.

I no longer want to be a speaker who does not speak.

This jacket has to come off.

I have to be free these shackles on me I shall find the key.

I can't be silent... I am broken, but not unbroken.

These words that I consists with are no longer unspoken.


~Silence is the second loudest thing I have next to my words on paper. I choose not to speak~

ModestWords







© 2012 PoeticFury



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WHAT AM I?: Nephilim
WHAT AM I?: Nephilim
A teen boy gets killed, but trades his soul for another chance. He changes. A girl notices the new boy with silver eyes.

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195 Views
Added on April 25, 2012
Last Updated on April 25, 2012
Tags: spoken, speak

Author

PoeticFury
PoeticFury

New Orleans, LA



About
Heaven has no fury like a writer with emotion. I love writing more than I love life. Why? Cause writing is my life, and without it I have no life. I enjoy music, and meeting new people. Also like most.. more..

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A Poem by PoeticFury