My Oh Mine

Silence is the loudest form of communication someone like me has come to know.

Sometimes I feel like I’m a mime. Not a mime for the entertainment of the people, but because I often find myself touching and running into walls that nobody else can see except for me.

I can’t speak… like the mime I remain quiet trying to figure my way out. I hear the chatter and questioning inside I can’t speak on the surface, but the inside I shout.

They say

Its just a barrier

It’s just a wall

I should be able to jump over it because of my height and size.

Truth is I can’t and constantly ask myself why.

Having difficultly finding the answer like a kid taking a test because I know it. My mind for some reason says otherwise. You see however these things can’t be scared away like the hiccups or a bad dream that your mother and father can make go away because its not what it seems.

Although if you feel or have any understanding anxiety, P-T-S-D, bipolar moods doesn’t have a plan. Just a capsule or a pill that you hope can teach these feelings and disorders a lesson. However depression is the most common nickname for my mind.

When people can speak, but not be heard by those when they are reaching out for help it seems that all they can do is mime.

Walking on land feeling like every step you take is quicksand and you’re drowning in the water which is made of the tears along with the fears of those who wish that assistance could have been giving for what it is that they were going through.

When at the funeral that same mother and father who comforted that child asked the pastor why and how is it that to seek professional help you have to pay in most cases to have someone to talk to?

If I could take those tears and nail them to your memories I would.

Mix that quicksand as quick as I can with a pinch of lime from the lemon and ask the complainers and those who judge others to place that lemon in their mouth don’t shout just pay attention.

Watch me don’t look over your shoulder add a little bit of soda heat it together with the feelings of those that are like me sometimes who are voiceless to create this liquid glass, but keep your focus on me. There is no time for cooling and flattering. Let me see your eyes.

These are the words for that little boy and girl.

That man or woman living or dead who can’t express themselves seeing the world in silver depositing that last thin piece of hope that existed when people thought it wasn't true.

It prevented the light from passing by and through their heart.

All they had left was a broken mirror.

Then all some can do is sit back and say is that I am sorry that he/she passed. Knowing that is doesn’t matter, but if the shoe was on the other foot if it did affect you, you would want the world to serve you a tissue on a platter and kiss your a*s.

I sometime wonder why this world is such a rough place.

I sometime wonder why the mind is an even tougher place.

It’s not hard for all of us to drop the hate, judgment, and rude ways.

Just take the time to talk to someone and help somebody…

Anybody not only for those who go through these things..

Those who think they have it all good.

Because the truth is they don’t nobody has it all good..

We can control more than we think and it starts by not sitting back and saying let’s see how it plays.

I hope this touches or reaches someone to influence and erase what it is that most have been taught.

In hope that we see and can live for better days.