Cut Out My Own Tongue
Like if I cut out my own tongue
As if I could run from freedom
Too afraid to believe that my stories matter
What have I done, in hasty retreat
Defacing my dreams with a casual ease
Ratcheting up the blur and noise
To cover the siren scream of my heart
At least I have still have a voice
Not yet scraped to shredded bare
Though wary from everyday abuse
The cold curious gleam of vivisection
Raw twitching machine to stunted eyes
Obligatory torture to stymy my presence
Floating far away, to be anyone but me
How boring it must seem, our scramble to be less
Only so many times I can worry about the state of my dress
Waxing my ego to a fine sheen, false prophets enlisted
To carry me, feet off the ground, nerves lost in sticky thought
Forgetting what has brought me here, forgetting who I am
Embrace the Paradox 