A Dance Between Expression and Repression
Words, like birds trapped in a cage,
Flutter towards the bars of my throat,
Yearning to interrupt unfastened into the wild sky.
But the air thickens with judgment's weight,
A shadow casting doubt upon their flight.
I stand at the brink of expression,
A tightrope stretched skinny over a chasm of silence,
Where every step, every syllable,
Trembles under the scrutiny of unseen eyes.
My voice, a timid flower,
Petals curled tight towards the bloodless winds of perception,
Seeks the warm temperature of understanding,
Yet retreats whilst met with the frost of indifference.
Shame, an unwelcome guest,
Lingers like smoke in an empty room,
Suffocating the reality I desire to breath
whispers in my ear, An echo of beyond rejections,
A reminder that vulnerability is a double-edged sword,
When I speak, the worldshifts,
An ocean of critiques rise to satisfy my words,
Crashing towards the seashorelines of my confidence.
But once I live silent, guilt festers,
A typhoon brewing withinside the depths of my soul,
Its thunder rumbles with unstated truths.
I am stuck in a paradox, A dance between expression and repression.
Where each breakthrough is met with a pull back,
A push and pull, just like the tides, Constant and unyielding.
The replicate of society displays back,
A distorted photograph of who I am.
A funhouse of perceptions,
Each one twisting my intentions into ugly shapes
Yet, withinside the coronary heart of this chaos,
A quiet voice remains.
Voice, Soft as a whisper,
robust as a lion's roar, Urging me to include the typhoon,
To permit the birds fly,
And agree with that the sky is wide enough
For each voice to find its place.
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