Conversations

the conversation in your head begins like this

the conversation in your head

begins  like this

first, it is not a conversation

you are just a party

hosting your anxieties like

a neighbor who brought 

his closest cousin depression along

the conversation in your head

begins like this

first, it is not you wanting

to talk to your self but everyone

in that empty room expects

you to speak  but you shut up

holding millions of promises under

your throat, surviving only

on trapped dusts of broken dreams

inside your lungs

your breath slowly get lost

they say you a mute

no, you haven’t been taught  how to

spit out thunders

before a sign of a rain

the girl in the arms of water

has a smile that glows

she brings her sadness to a spin

before tucking her to bed early

the  girl in the arms of water

has a smile that glows

any drowning day is a perfect day

of surrendering

the conversation in your head

begins like this

it is much louder than the sermon

preached from the pulpit on sundays 

it is much louder than the music

coming from your neighbors room

it’s louder

it’s louder

the conversation in your head

begins  like this

i,  too, hate the way a lot of

women meet to converse in your brain

i, too, hate all these women the same way

but how do we get them out?

Share this page

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

sixteen − three =