Meetings

I find my heart soars with animosity,
I long to speak with a gilded tongue that is concealed behind quiet lips.
I wish to speak aloud yet the buzzing in my head says that is a wrong path,
keeping silent and to the shadows is who I am, what the buzzing makes me.

Words swirl through my head, the colors bursting through my eyes,
yet no one notices the quiet girl with a whimsical look in the corner,
they instead see the dazzling life of the party who sucks them up in a whirl of wonder.

I could be that person, yet my mind begins to think of numerous disasters that have occurred to others yet not to me.
Being laughed at or hearing crickets around a room when I speak trudges through my mind yet I know once the words have been spoken nothing but intellect is reflected back.

When I do speak, I surprise many, for the quiet ones have the most to say but think the way that they convey their thoughts is misguided, that they’ll be judged on their moral upbringing. But who is anyone to judge the way that a wondering mind with a quiet soul thinks?

One day my quiet soul will venture forth into the depths of what I have wanted to say for much to long, but until that day of celebration I remain in my quiet chains.

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