May 1st, 2014
When I speak, or even bother to open my mouth at all, people snap their heads in my direction, and I let my words out with a hesitance. Their eyebrows crinkle, and sometimes they frown. But they always--always--say, what?
So I repeat what I had to say, a reluctance in my tone. If I'm lucky, they heard me. But usually I'm asked to repeat what I just said. Again.
I end up repeating myself for the third time--this time shouting as I do so. They flinch and I flinch, retreating back into my head. It wasn't meant to sound so harsh.
These experiences, they make me regret my words. Regret that I ever had anything to say at all. Because all they receive is polite laughter or a scowl.
They make me draw back into myself and keep my mouth shut on certain topics. I've withdrawn within myself. Keeping it in because, in all honesty, is what I have to say important? To anyone?
Or am I so far within myself, that when I speak my tongue can't leak my opinional thoughts?
Before I open my mouth I'll always remember the times I wasn't heard. Or judged because of what was heard.
Maybe it's better this way. To be withdrawn. No one has to hear what I say. I'll be saving myself from the embarrassment of thinking I have anything important to say.
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Just a little something I wrote the other day, whilst I was feeling down, and trying to analyze my life. I reads as though my thoughts were scattered and ward to recognize--and they were/are. Especially to me.
Thank you for reading. <3
xx Nicole Rose